


lost in the dark

by gimmetheknife



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chinese New Year, First Meetings, House Party, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 06:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15600060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmetheknife/pseuds/gimmetheknife
Summary: doyoung and taeyong meet at a house party.





	lost in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> woww i've been writing this one for a while now and its turned into something really close to my heart. hope you like it
> 
> [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/katiestrubel/playlist/1paMreC3NWiMXu28mi6V59?si=z3-fT62tS7Ch321mDrfYcg)

Doyoung watched as the snow spun down.

He had been in that position for a while—sitting on the front porch of the house, wooden stairs frozen beneath him, knees pulled to his chest, back towards the noise of the party, eyes focused on the snow falling in front of him, his phone vibrating in his back pocket every ten minutes. He could see everything from his spot. The street was going white with snow, sky glowing a hazy dark grey with highlights of yellow from the city lights in the distance, cars parked up and down the street, dark silhouettes of people coming up the driveway and maneuvering around him as they made their way into the party behind him. It was cold out there but that was the calmest Doyoung had felt in hours. 

No one came looking for him outside.

It had been snowing off and on for weeks but it felt like forever instead. The steady cover of looming grey clouds never seemed to let up completely. There was always something falling, coating the ground in cold. That night seemed colder than the rest, Doyoung’s thin long sleeve sweater doing little to keep the chill out but he wasn’t ready to go back inside yet.

Behind him, the party sounded miles away—like Doyoung was underwater instead of on the front porch, jeans starting to wet from the falling snow. 

He rather be home in his dorm, shoved up under the blankets, ear buds in, on the verge of sleep. He rather be home but he couldn't leave because it was the first time he agreed to go anywhere since late September when he tried to drop off the planet. He should stand up, walk back into the party he escaped forty minutes ago because he knew the people he came with were looking for him, waiting for him to turn up again so they could drink together because that was the whole reason why they wanted him to come in the first place. Except Doyoung didn't think he could even fake having a good time because getting drunk was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn't want to be there because it was just a party. Nothing special.

When Jaehyun first mentioned the party a few days ago _(“It’s a going away party or something, plus its New Years. We’re all going.”)_ , Doyoung instantly started thinking up an excuse why he couldn’t make it but it was hard when he lived with most of the people that would end up going. He even thought about going home for the weekend instead but he knew his parents would just worry about him after seeing how little he had improved in the past few months. Dealing with his friends would always be easier and Doyoung knew how patient they had been with him the past few months. In a way, he felt like he owed it to them just this once.

The party was thrown by a guy Youngho knew well enough to expand his plus one to plus seven. That's how many of them were there—Doyoung, Jaehyun, Youngho, Ten, Taeil, Mark, and Donghyuck. A party with an undisclosed celebration, cheap alcohol, and stale weed. A party Donghyuck and Mark shouldn't have even been at but it was hard to say no when Donghyuck continuously gave the  _"I'm almost eighteen, hyung"_  speech and when Mark would most likely be the one making sure they all got back home safe and in one piece. They weren't drinking, Doyoung and Jaehyun were always serious about that, looking after those two closely, probably even when it was time for them to legally drink. 

Ten was probably half-drunk already, Youngho watching him closely, not drinking or smoking anymore the minute he started to see Ten sway on his feet. They had always been like that, since the start, silently watching each other, always ready to be there.

Doyoung didn’t think they’d notice if he were to stand up and walk home. They were all at least three drinks in at that point except the young ones. It’d be so easy to pretend like that night never happened, like Doyoung was too elusive to realize his friends had already noticed his absence. He kind of wished they would stop noticing when he wasn’t around. It’d make the way his was feeling easier to deal with.

The only noise came from inside the house. The rest of the neighborhood quiet, dark, dead to the world. 

For a moment, Doyoung felt like he was only person in the entire city not inside the house. Everything was hazy except the steady hum of the speakers vibrating the wooden stairs beneath him. It felt like he was already drunk despite not drinking any alcohol since September when everything started going bad, when everything seemed to happen all at once.

The snow started to come down a little harder and Doyoung watched a new group of college kids pile up the driveway, kicking the snow off their feet when they reached the porch. Doyoung shifted towards the side as a few of them stepped around him, giving them space, not making eye contact with any of them because he didn’t really see a point.

They talked numbly through chattering teeth and it wasn’t until Doyoung noticed his breath crystalizing in front of him did he realize his muscles were shaking from the weather, from his nerves.

Doyoung hung his head back and focused on the sky above him. He counted to ten twice, took a deep breath, and then he was standing up and tucking his hands in his jean pockets. His legs felt heavy and unmovable but somehow, he managed to turn around, climb up the stairs and in through the front door.

**

When he walked back into the party, everything seemed to hit him at all once.

The crowd doubled since he walked out forty-five minutes ago. Off the entryway to the front was an untouched office room dark to the rest of the world but every few seconds, Doyoung could make out the end of cigarettes burning orange with each inhale, the figures smoking them lost to the darkness. To his right, the dim living room seemed to pulsate with the crowd. Somewhere, music spilled from speakers filling the entire house with echoed drumming and lyrics Doyoung couldn’t seem to make out.

Down the hall, Doyoung noticed a stairway leading upward packed with people, the end of the hallway opening up into the dining room and kitchen. Smoke swirled overhead in the air, making the hallway look hazy and dreamlike. For a minute, Doyoung considered turning around and walking home but something (guilt probably) made it impossible for him to move anywhere except forward.

He pushed through the crowd, making his way into the living room where he last saw his friends. People glanced at him as he made his way through the make-shift dance floor and it was so easy for Doyoung to look down and ignore them completely. His chest, throat, and head felt so tight but then he was glancing upwards when he heard a flurry of familiar voices. When his eyes focused on a group of blurry bodies moving with a surge of movement, he finally found the people he had been looking for.

Doyoung watched them in slow motion—

Taeil lifting up his cup so it wouldn't spill from the sudden shift of the crowd, careful not to bump anyone, Mark's hand finding Donghyuck's and pulling him close, their bodies falling in step together without missing a beat, Ten leaning back against Youngho's chest and Youngho's hand instinctively coming up and resting against Ten's waist, Jaehyun moving steadily to the beat of the music, the six of them staying close together.

“Hyung!” Donghyuck said suddenly, pushing through their group of friends until his hand was curling around the slope of Doyoung’s arm. “Where were you?”

“Bathroom.” Doyoung lied.

“We thought you left,” Taeil said. “We’ve been calling you.”

“Only twice,” Ten cut in, smiling and sliding his arm around Doyoung’s waist which was enough for Doyoung to relax completely. Ten had always been good at that, noticing when Doyoung was drowning and how to pull him back up. “You almost missed Donghyuck fighting the DJ.”

“I’m not going to _fight_ him,” Donghyuck groaned. “But if he plays one more fucking Jay Park song I might exchange some choice words.”

“You think he’ll use choice words back?” Youngho said. “He could kill you with one punch.”

“He’s right,” Taeil chimed in. “Just drink your water and don’t make any eye contact.”

“ _Fuck_ you guys,” Donghyuck said, offended. “You’re supposed to be getting ready to defend me.”

Youngho held him back by his shoulders. “ _Defend you?_ Against him?”

Doyoung followed his line of sight until the DJ was clear in his vision. He was big, round around the edges, eyes downcast, body not even moving to the music emitting from his setup. Even _he_ wasn’t having a good time.

“Yes!” Donghyuck said. “Distract him, kick him in the face, steal his laptop, cut off the power to the house! Do fucking _something._ ”

“Alright, alright,” Jaehyun cut in. “If it comes to that—and it better fucking not—I’ll grab the laptop.”

Mark nodded. “I’ll distract him. Ten will do the kicking and—”

“Wait,” Taeil said. “Why can’t _I_ do the kicking?”

Mark hesitated before holding out both his hands and mimicking the height of Taeil compared to the unnamed DJ. The DJ had at least a foot on him alone. Taeil didn’t say anything to that, just nodded in defeat.

“And Me and Doyoung will cut off the power,” Youngho said, slapping Doyoung’s shoulder. “Problem solved.”

“ _Finally_ ,” Donghyuck exclaimed. “The support I fucking need and deserve.”

Doyoung and the rest of them started to laugh and he didn’t hesitate before he was taking Donghyuck under his arm and pulling him into his side to hug him.

For some reason, Doyoung always forgot how easier it was to deal with his stuff when he was around people he knew cared about him. But even then—he always found a way to convince himself that being alone was good for him. That it was good to keep all his things bottled up and far away in case they infected the ones around him. It was dumb and he knew it but that didn’t stop him from wishing he was alone.

Even surrounded by the warmth of his friends and the pulsations of the party, Doyoung still felt colder than he had when he was outside.

“Hey,” Ten said low enough that only Doyoung could hear. Beside them Donghyuck and Youngho continued to argue over the physical abilities the DJ may or may not have had. “You okay?”

Doyoung nodded, forced a smile and held Ten closer against his side. “I’m fine.”

Jaehyun, Ten, and Youngho had been the most patient with him since. Doyoung knew it was hard for them to not be.

Doyoung had been a shit friend—muting the group chat, pretending he wasn’t home when he clearly was, backing out of the summer apartment lease he was going to share with Jaehyun and Mark, skipping out on Ten’s solo dance recital (Doyoung made it as far as the front door of the venue before he was backtracking home, not even giving Ten something as simple as a decent excuse or even an apology). He had been fucking horrible the past six months but they were still trying.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Ten smiled, nodding. Youngho came over then, looping an arm over Ten’s neck and leading him deeper into the living room where the makeshift dance floor was. “I missed you!” Ten called over his shoulder, the white of his smile the last thing Doyoung saw before he was gone completely.

Months ago, before his break-up with Seokwoo, Doyoung would’ve followed Ten and Youngho out into the middle of the floor, dancing until his drunk courage wore off. That felt so long ago, like a past life almost. Everything before September felt like a dream he didn’t know he’d have to wake up from.

Doyoung didn’t let his eyes wander over the faces of the crowd in hopes of landing on someone familiar, he just hugged the wall and let himself drift through the conversations going on around him—Mark and Donghyuck talking to some guy he had only ever seen at parties and never actually been introduced to, Jaehyun exchanging his number with a group of people, Taeil disappearing into the hallway before coming back minutes later with a full cup. Everything continued going on all around him.

If he was being honest, parties just reminded him of Seokwoo. In those two years, that’s where they were a majority of the time, mostly on the weekends, sometimes on weeknights if they convinced each other to skip their morning classes the next day. Most nights, they’d show up with a group of friends, drinking until Doyoung felt weightless, leaning on Seokwoo for support or just because he liked the steady weight of his body against him. They never stayed the entire night, usually slipping off a few hours in, finding an empty bedroom or walking to an all-night convenience store where’d they eat until the sun started to come up, too wrapped up in each other to care about anything else. Doyoung forgot how hard being at parties was when he didn’t have someone or something to focus on. Nights like that weren’t always good. Towards the end, Doyoung would find himself alone, Seokwoo nowhere in sight and when he would show up, he’d be so drunk Doyoung would have to drag him home. Some nights, Doyoung wouldn’t be able to find Seokwoo at all and he’d have to find a way home on his own, waiting up at home for hours just to make sure Seokwoo got home safe. The bad times always seemed to outweigh the good.

His skin itched for something. Something to keep his hands busy. For the first time all night, Doyoung wished he had a drink to distract himself.

“Hyung,” Jaehyun called suddenly, his hand wrapping around Doyoung’s wrist to get his attention. “You don’t want to dance?”

Doyoung shook his head. “Not right now. Later for sure, though.”

Jaehyun looked at him for a few seconds, skeptical. Doyoung could see the frustration in his expression and it was so hard to want to be open about what he was going through when Jaehyun looked at him like that. Like he was ruining everyone’s night for not wanting to dance.

"You're staying, right?" Jaehyun asked against the music.

Doyoung hesitated, noticing the way Jaehyun was looking at him, like he would physically restrain him from walking out the door, but Doyoung was so tired and cold and just wanted to be alone. “I don’t know—”

“There’s another party closer to the dorms,” Jaehyun cut in. “Not as crowded probably. We’ll leave after midnight. You won’t go home until after that, right?”

Lying was always going to be easier than arguing.

“Sure,” Doyoung said and then he broke away. “I’m gonna’ go get a drink.”

**

Doyoung ended up in the kitchen, watching numbly as someone set out a row of plastic cups.

He knew he was hiding, blending in easily with other people as they pooled around the island, a small group of them talking openly about lighting off fireworks after midnight. There was still three hours until the usual time Jaehyun and all of them started back home and all he could think about was how long three hours really was when you’re in a place you never wanted to be in the first place. Doyoung didn’t think he’d be able to make it.

Instead, Doyoung looked down at his hands gripping the countertop. He focused on his hands, the contrast of his skin tone compared to the black granite, letting bits of the conversation happening next to him drift in.

Apparently, someone had bought ₩500,000 worth of fireworks for the party. Doyoung could see it clearly—the night sky, hard snow falling down, hands cradling the flame of a lighter, sparks exploding into the air, colors illuminating the entire street, smoke and then darkness. In any other situation, Doyoung would’ve anticipated watching the winter sky fill with artificial colors but all he could think about the disappointment when they lit the last one and the sky officially went black for good. Those few minutes of color didn’t seem worth it when he’d only be left in the dark again.

Above him, the same person as before began filling each cup with ice, moving down the line methodically while also carrying on a conversation with someone else next to him. Eventually, the guy walked over to the fridge and pulled out a large, clear pitcher of cloudy liquid and at first glance, Doyoung assumed it was lemonade.

The drink looked like something Youngho or Jaehyun would like, drinking until their minds were foggy. Thinking of it, Doyoung almost considered grabbing three full cups and heading back to where he last left his friends but his feet felt heavy and the thought of drinking with them and pretending nothing was wrong seemed impossible. He had been a shitty friend—and he knew that. He just needed _time_ or something else to happen before he could go back to how he used to be.

How he used to be almost sounded cathartic at that point. Doyoung could barely remember who he was before things got bad let alone how he’d ever be able to get like that again. He felt stupid just thinking about it and it made him wonder if that was how he’d be for the rest his life—cold, tired, wanting nothing more than to be alone.

He shoved the idea out of his mind.

At some point, as his eyes drifted back to the row of the cups, he felt the soft pressure and warmth of someone next to him. They leaned slightly into his side, like they were trying to see what was going on with the kitchen island. Doyoung looked downwards slightly, checking to see if it was Jaehyun or Ten or anybody else he might’ve known but when he saw unfamiliar clothing, he sighed internally and went back to the drinks.

"Want one?" Someone said, somewhere next to him, voice soft against the noise of the party.

Doyoung broke his gaze from the row of drinks being poured, noticed the liquid sloshing over the sides of the cup, and looked towards the voice next to him.

It was a guy. The one that had been leaning carefully into Doyoung’s side. He looked the same age as Doyoung, maybe a few years older. Dark black hair fell over his forehead and a little bit past his eyebrows, brown eyes lightened from the lamps of the kitchen, a clean slit through his right brow, mouth open slightly from the question. He was a few centimeters shorter than Doyoung. The music seemed to intensify then. Doyoung leaned in. "What?"

Dark Hair motioned to the drinks. “I said, do you want one?"

"Uh," Doyoung said, looking back to the counter. He could see the condensation sticking to the outside of the plastic, drops rolling down and meeting the previously spilled drink on the table. Everything was cloudy. "Sure."

Dark Hair leaned over the island, grabbing two of the cups. "They’re usually pretty good,” he said as he handed one to Doyoung. “Strong but good.”

Doyoung nodded. “Thanks,” took a sip. “It’s good.”

Dark Hair smiled, mouth hovering over the rim of the cup. “You having fun?”

“Sure,” Doyoung said after a lengthy pause. “You?”

“Yeah,” He nodded. “The music is kind of shitty but everything else has been good.” Doyoung noticed the way Dark Hair tried to keep eye contact, failing every time Doyoung’s eyes stayed on him longer than three seconds. His eyes would advert down then, anxiously looking around until something around them would draw his attention.

Doyoung looked towards the living room, checking to see if any of his friends were close enough to notice him talking to a stranger but he didn’t see anyone he knew, just an ocean of fast-moving bodies and dim lights flickering from above. “You’d think DJ would know the first rule of parties,” Doyoung said, trying to soothe the length of awkward pauses that come with meeting someone for the first time. “One Jay Park song and one Jay Park song only.”

Dark Hair nodded quickly. “Anything more is just overkill,” he set his cup down on the kitchen island.

“If this were my party,” Doyoung started, taking another sip of his drink. It felt warm all the way down to his stomach. “ _Me Like Yuh_ would be banned the second I walked in.”

“My type of party,” Dark Hair said and then he was holding out a hand for Doyoung to shake. “I’m Taeyong. Lee Taeyong.”

“Taeyong,” Doyoung repeated, taking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Taeyong smiled, his eyes warm under the lights. He was wearing a black long sleeve rolled up to his elbows and dark jeans that hugged his legs completely.

Doyoung watched him for a moment, sorting out what Taeyong’s intentions might be and then decided against drawing conclusions at all. “I’m Doyoung. Kim Doyoung.”

There was a moment of hesitation between the two of them and then a surge of new people came in through the backdoor, bringing a wave of winter air. It wasn’t until the cool contrast hit Doyoung’s cheeks did he realize how warm his face was.

“So,” Doyoung said, not wanting the conversation to die yet. “Do you know what this party’s about? My roommates said they knew the people throwing it but that was it.”

Taeyong looked at him, nodding. “It’s a welcome home party. I don’t think it was supposed to have this many people, though.” Taeyong motioned to the crowd and it wasn’t until Doyoung followed the end of his movement did he realize a majority of the people were staring at them as they talked.

“Do you know who it’s for?” Doyoung asked but then people were shoving past the two of them, working their way towards the row of drinks on the opposite side of the kitchen. Doyoung lost his balance for a second before Taeyong was catching his forearms in his hands, keeping Doyoung upright and making sure his drink didn’t spill.

Taeyong’s hands were warm around his wrists, overly warm, and his mouth was right across from Doyoung’s face when he said, “You okay?”

Doyoung stepped forward trying to find his footing and was about to say something when the guy who was making the drinks earlier suddenly walked over and asked, "Do you want a handjob?" 

Doyoung blinked, still trying to get his feet completely flat on the floor again. For a moment he thought he heard the guy wrong but then he was asking again and it wasn’t until he wasn’t about to fall on the linoleum floor of the kitchen and Taeyong’s hands weren’t warm against him did he answer. "No _?_ "

Taeyong stepped forward, putting a hand to the guy’s chest and pushing him back a little bit but he was smiling as he did it. "Yuta—”

The guy, Yuta, held up his hands defensively. "Hey, hey. I was just asking—”

"Well don't," Taeyong urged. "Jesus."

Yuta brushed Taeyong's hand off his chest before focusing his attention on Doyoung. "Hi," he said, holding out a hand. "I'm Yuta. Taeyong's designated driver."

“Doyoung,” Doyoung shook his hand, ignoring Taeyong saying  _you're not just my designated driver, god—_ “You always go around asking guys if they want handjobs?”

“No,” Yuta shook his head. “But if you said yes, I happen to know that Taeyong is extremely skilled with his—”

“ _Stop_ ,” Taeyong urged. “What are you even doing here?”

“You weren’t the only person invited to the party, Yong-ah.” 

“No,” Taeyong exhaled. “I meant what are you doing here? Right now? With me?”

Yuta laughed. “Just checking on you." 

“I’m fine.” Taeyong told him.

Yuta looked at Doyoung, raising an eyebrow. “Is he?” 

Doyoung bit the inside of his cheek, feeling vulnerable in front of Yuta who was overly open and loud. He wondered if Yuta was always like that or if this was just a persona he brought out during long nights spent in overcrowded house parties. Whatever it was, Doyoung already knew he didn’t like whoever Yuta was. “I think so?” Doyoung said, hesitantly. For the first time all night he wished Jaehyun was with him.

“Good, good,” Yuta nodded, directing his attention towards Taeyong. “You having fun?”

“I was,” Taeyong sighed. “The DJ fucking sucks. He’s played six Jay Park songs.”

Yuta stilled. “What’s wrong with Jay Park?”

“Nothing,” Taeyong clasped a hand around Yuta’s shoulders, shoving him back towards the dining room. “Just makes mediocre music that’s overplayed way too much at parties like this. Shouldn’t you be making drinks or something?” 

Yuta brushed Taeyong’s hand off his shoulder. “Look around, dude. Not a dry cup in the whole fucking house. My job is done.” 

Taeyong’s forehead creased in frustration and then, without missing a beat, he reached towards the kitchen island and nudged his cup from earlier with the back of his hand, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill all over the countertop. “Mine’s empty.” He said finally and all Yuta did was laugh.

“You’re a _fuck_ ,” Yuta said and then, “I don’t always go for the handjob line,” he told Doyoung, pushing Taeyong away. “But you didn’t look like the type of person to punch me if I asked.”

“That’s fucking weird,” Doyoung said. “Do I look like someone who would’ve said yes?” 

Yuta paused, looking Doyoung up and down. “No.”

“So why’d you ask me if you knew you wouldn’t get anything out of it?” Doyoung asked, annoyed.

Yuta shrugged. “It’s good to know someone’s intentions from the start.”

Doyoung was about to ask him to elaborate further when suddenly, as if on cue, some guy appeared on the other side of Yuta, taking his arm in his hands and pulling him away from Taeyong. “Come on, dude,” the guy said laughing. “Leave Taeyong alone,” and then nodded to Doyoung and said, “Sorry about him.” 

“Sicheng! Don’t!” Yuta yelled as the guy started half-dragging him away from the two of them, fighting him the entire way. “ _Hey_ ,” Yuta called, laughing from his chest. “I’ll find you two later!” And then he and Sicheng were lost to the party. 

Doyoung watched until he knew Yuta was long gone before turning back towards Taeyong. “What the fuck was that?”

“His version of support,” Taeyong started, sucking in a short breath. “I’d blame that on him being drunk, but you already know he’s the DD.” Taeyong shifted sideways, his back turned towards most of the chaos of the crowd, attention solely on Doyoung next to the back patio door of the house and the kitchen.

Taeyong’s cheeks reddened under the kitchen lights, his posture stiffening the second Yuta had opened his mouth. Doyoung felt the air stale between them and he wondered if Taeyong was expecting him to walk away, stay away from him and the possibility of being questioned further by his friends.

Doyoung didn’t know Taeyong at all but maybe they could get to know each other. It was weird, the way Doyoung could feel himself wanting to talk to him longer, the way he wanted to get to know him after nothing more than a handful of sentences. Half an hour ago, Doyoung was ready to duck out of a back door and walk home so he could be alone, but with Taeyong in front of him Doyoung couldn’t remember why leaving had been the only thing on his mind.

“My friends would probably do something like that,” Doyoung told him, breaking the embarrassment he knew Taeyong was feeling. “Probably would’ve left out the handjob part but that’s just them.”

“We should introduce them,” Taeyong said, a flicker of relief flushing his cheeks, and then he was changing the subject. “Do you go to school here?”

Doyoung looked at him. “Yeah. Don’t you?”

He thought Taeyong might as well have gone to the same college him. The campus was huge. Doyoung barely knew anyone at the party except the people he came with. Half of people in the living room could live in the same dorm as Doyoung and he wouldn’t even know.

“I’m from here originally but I go to college in Ulsan.” Taeyong told him, biting the inside of his cheek.

“What brought you back in the middle of the semester?”

“New Years,” Taeyong said before motioning to the house and crowd around them. “This party is kind of for me since I’m home.”

Doyoung’s eyes widened. “You’re the guy.”

“The guy,” Taeyong repeated. “That’s what they’re calling me?”

“Yong!” Someone shouted over the rustle of the crowd and Doyoung turned to see an unfamiliar guy at the helm of the entryway waving his arms wildly. Doyoung blinked, watching the way Taeyong’s face broke into a smile before the guy was yelling again. “I’m drunk and need assistance! Get the fuck over here!”

“One minute!” Taeyong yelled back before his attention was on Doyoung again. “He does this all the time.”

“I thought Yuta was the designated driver?”

“He is,” Taeyong sighed. “But I’m the designated emotional support. Yukhei’s in love.”

“Shit,” Doyoung said. “You better get to him fast.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong’s gaze broke from Yukhei across the room and his eyes settled back to Doyoung. He watched him for a second and Doyoung thought about saying something else when Taeyong was reaching down and taking Doyoung’s hand in between his own. “Thanks for coming,” Taeyong said, sincere. “I’ll see you later?”

Doyoung nodded. “Yeah.”

And then Taeyong pulled away, smiling one more time as he disappeared into the ocean of people. Doyoung didn’t watch him go, just looked down at the hand Taeyong had been holding twenty seconds earlier. It didn’t feel like his own anymore.

When Taeyong was gone for real, Doyoung worked his way through the kitchen. He sidestepped past a handful of people he didn’t know or wanted to, hoping he didn’t look as buzzed as he felt. Somewhere across the house, people shouted over the noise of the music.

Doyoung made it to the kitchen sink and turned the tap on. He waited for it to get cold and then stuck his open mouth underneath the stream and drank until it felt like he diluted the alcohol burning in his stomach and veins. He’s not sure how long he stayed like that, with his mouth practically around the sink spout, but for a moment it was a good distraction from everything. When he pulled back and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, he already felt his vision starting to steady again. He shut the water off and turned back towards the party.

He thought about Jaehyun and the rest of them, wondering if they had even noticed he had gone missing again. He hoped they didn’t. Doyoung leaned against the counter and waited for his head to stop spinning. It was weird, how sudden Taeyong had shown up next to him at the kitchen island only for him to disappear like nothing ever happened.

The entire night felt like a fever dream.

It was almost midnight and the last place Doyoung wanted to be was downstairs in the middle of it all.

Doyoung started to pull away, taking a deep breath before fighting his way up the stairs until it was just him and a dark hallway.

**

There was a window at the end of the hall.

Doyoung let himself wander towards it, leaving the music far behind him. It was another type of cold upstairs. The air felt absent, quiet and haunted. Gold confetti lined the floor, picking up with Doyoung’s feet with each step he took. When he reached the end of the hallway, Doyoung extended his hands forward, feeling the window pane beneath his palms. Outside the window was a two story drop to the side yard below. Snow gathered along the siding of the house, picking up where the wind swept it during long nights. The snow was untouched, moonlight bouncing off the surface making everything outside look like it was on pause.

The main road off to the front of house was empty but Doyoung still expected to see a slow-moving crawl of cars to pass by, filling the road with a harsh yellow from their headlights, but there was nothing and no one.

In a more desperate situation, Doyoung might’ve pried the window open as an escape, hoping that if he jumped the snowdrift below would cushion his fall and forgo any broken bones or internal bleeding but the hallway felt like a good place to hide for the moment, like no one would come looking for him upstairs.

For the second time of the night, he found himself completely alone.

Downstairs, the music was faint but the base of the speakers vibrated beneath his feet, the walls, the roof, the entire city around him. The vibrations ran up his legs, through his stomach, down the tips of his fingers, and when Doyoung closed his eyes, it was so easy to picture himself anywhere but there. He thought about his dorm room, the windows frosted over from the snow, the dark static glow of the TV, the quiet, the moment in between being awake and asleep.

A more intense vibration of his phone is what pulled him back.

**Jaehyun**

Friday, 11:27 PM

_where are you??_

Doyoung stared at the screen for a few seconds, fingers dancing over the keys unsure of what to reply, eventually settling on _kitchen_ when he heard someone coming up the stairs.

“Doyoung,” A soft voice called over the empty hallway and when Doyoung turned around, he saw Taeyong alone. “Hey.”

Doyoung watched Taeyong step into the light of the moon, edges of his silhouette lighting up with silver. He looked like a ghost standing in the middle of hallway. He felt something move through his chest. “Hey.”

“Sorry,” Taeyong said. “You weren’t in the kitchen when I got back. I wasn’t sure if you left.”

Doyoung felt his cheeks warm. “Still here.”

Taeyong smiled, nodded, meeting him at the window. “It’s cold up here,” he said. “And quiet.”

They stood shoulder to shoulder, Taeyong looking out the window and down to the yard below.

“I kind of like it,” Doyoung said, tucking his phone away without pressing send. “The quiet.”

Taeyong nodded and then he was closing his eyes, like he was trying to take in the emptiness of the hallway in comparison to how wild it was downstairs. He looked good like that: quiet, unmoving, face focused on whatever was going on around him. It was so hard for Doyoung to look away.

“So,” Doyoung said, looking at him. “This is your party.”

Taeyong’s eyes opened. “It was a surprise. I never would’ve hired that DJ if this was all my idea.” 

“I believe it,” Doyound said. “Is your friend okay?”

“What?”

Doyoung motioned to the stairs. “Downstairs. The guy who’s in love.”

“Oh yeah,” Taeyong rubbed the back of his neck. “He got the condensed version of my comfort speech and was good to go.”

“Only the condescend version? Why not the full?” Doyoung asked.

“The full version is around twenty minutes and I knew he’d stop listening halfway through,” Taeyong shrugged. “He barely listens to the first half anyway. He’s too far gone.”

Doyoung laughed at that and then it was silent.

Outside, soft snow began to fall as Taeyong anxiously rocked on the balls of his feet and Doyoung swore he saw a flicker of realization spread across Taeyong’s face. Doyoung felt different after that, half-wanting to text Jaehyun about what was going on and half-wanting to stay at the party awhile longer.

Footsteps filled the stairs then, people surging down the hallway with red cheeks from the cold, lips tipped with laughter, tracking in snow with them as they sprinted down the hallway and into one of the adjacent rooms. The door slammed shut behind them but Doyoung could still hear their voices.

"Wanna' go somewhere? Go do something?" Taeyong said suddenly.

Doyoung blinked, unsure. "No? I mean, I'm fine here. Why?"

"I don't know," Taeyong said. "You just look like you need a distraction."

Doyoung looked over at him. "Maybe I do. I don't really know either."

Taeyong's eyes met his, pupils looking dark underneath the light of the moon. "I could be your distraction."

Doyoung thought Taeyong might’ve been the softest person he had ever talked to. He was so hesitant when he talked but then Doyoung was wondering if he knew half the things he said were so forward. Then again, maybe that was the point but Doyoung didn’t feel like Taeyong was trying to flirt with him. At least not until he knew Doyoung was comfortable with it.

“You already are,” Doyoung said. “I’m not focused on anything except you.”

“Shit,” Taeyong replied. “Am I doing a good job?”

Doyoung shrugged. “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

Doyoung looked down at his hands swimming in moonlight on the edge of the windowsill and for the first time all night he felt like he was truly there in the chaos of it all. It was quiet and empty upstairs but chaotic in its own way and Doyoung was still breathing in the middle of it all.

**

Somehow, Doyoung found himself downstairs in the middle of the party again except this time, Taeyong was with him.

“So if this is your party,” Doyoung shouted over the music, following Taeyong as they made their way towards the kitchen. “Shouldn’t you be hosting or something?”

Taeyong made a face, voice loud over the hum of conversations. “I’m pretending people can entertain themselves.”

Doyoung took a long look around. The kitchen island had transformed into a beer pong table, people’s bodies swayed together with the music, the back porch was littered with people who were brave enough to face the cold to smoke cigarettes, everyone caught up in whatever or whoever they were immersed in.

“Yeah,” Doyoung said, observant. “You’re probably right.”

“Besides,” Taeyong shrugged, hugging the far wall of the kitchen. “It’s weird when it’s all about me.”

“Is that why everyone is staring at you like you’re not real?” Doyoung asked.

Taeyong looked up, eyebrows creasing together with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“The party,” Doyoung motioned around the room. “Everybody looks at you like they’ve never seen someone like you before.”

Taeyong did a onceover of the people surrounding them, barely noticing the amount of stares he was eliciting just by standing there. “No one’s staring.”

“Yes they are,” Doyoung said. “Are you famous?”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “No. I just haven’t been home in a while.”

“How long’s a while?”

“Two years,” Taeyong shrugged. “Maybe they think _you’re_ the one that’s not real.”

Doyoung shook his head. “They’re not looking at me.”

“I am.” Taeyong said easily.

Doyoung hesitated at that, feeling his cheeks go warm from the sudden but small expression but then he was covering it with a distraction, looking away and focusing on a loud game of beer pong going on a few feet to his left. “Do you know everyone here?”

“Not _everyone_ ,” Taeyong said, looking around. “Yuta and Sicheng have been my friends for years. I met Yukhei the summer before I left for college. They’re the main ones who planned the party but I know a few other people who helped. I’m kind of the only one who actually went away for college, and a lot of the people here grew up in the same place as me so I’ve known them since I was a kid. This is basically just another Friday night party for a lot of the people here except I’m here, too.” he shrugged. “Yuta acts like I’m some sort of beacon since I moved away for school and haven’t really been back.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung listened. “About that—why haven’t you been home in two years?”

Taeyong shook his head. “I don’t know. At the time it didn’t really feel like it was where I needed to be.”

“And now it is?” Doyoung asked.

“Yeah,” Taeyong told him. “For the night at least. I go back tomorrow morning.”

Doyoung hadn’t known him for even an hour, but it already felt different knowing he would never see Taeyong again after that night. The conversation felt cathartic, almost. Like getting to know the small parts of Taeyong would never do him any long term good but even then, everything they said felt like way more than just small talk. Doyoung wouldn’t have stayed if it wasn’t.

“Do you like being home?”

Taeyong nodded. “Seoul is my favorite place in the entire world. That’s why it was weird when it didn’t feel like I should be here anymore. It’s hard to explain.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung said. “You don’t look like much of an Ulsan guy.”

“What does that mean?”

“You look like someone who grew up a studio apartment in the middle of Hongdae, but like, you were never home because you traveled with your parents all over for their work. You practically lived in Itaewon before you graduated, and never missed a party and I bet everyone here has at least one good Taeyong story they’ll never forget.”

Taeyong watched him for a few seconds, blinking slowly. “My parents didn’t travel for work.”

“But was I close?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, a little in disbelief. “Have you been reading me this entire time?”

Doyoung laughed. “No. I’m just good at guessing.”

“Well,” Taeyong started. “Where are you from? Let me guess. You grew up in a suburb outside of Seoul, and you have two older brothers who are alumni where you go to school. You don’t go to many parties even though you always end up having a good time, and you hate the winter.”

Doyoung stared at him for a few seconds, realizing he hadn’t been the only one paying close attention and making internal assumptions since they met. “I only have one older brother.”

“You really don’t like winter?”

Doyoung shook his head. “Hate it.”

“Are you staying here over the summer?” Taeyong asked.

“I don’t know,” Doyoung sighed. “I was supposed to rent an apartment in the city with some friends but it...didn’t really work out so, I’m not really sure what I’m going to do. Probably go back home to Guri.”

“Yeah? I’ve never been East of Seoul,” Taeyong said. “Maybe I’ll visit since I’ll know somebody there.”

Doyoung looked at him, feeling warm and a little in awe. He couldn’t imagine what Taeyong looked like in the summer. “That’d be nice,” he said finally. “I’ll show you the sights.”

There was a commotion then, the distant sound of someone shouting Taeyong’s name over the music, over their conversation. They both turned towards the noise and when Doyoung focused on the source, he saw Yuta waving both arms for their attention as he fought through the crowd, getting to them eventually.

“Fuck,” Yuta exhaled, looking the same since the last Doyoung saw him. “This shit is getting out of hand,” he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “They just keep coming in. How many people did Minho invite?”

Taeyong shrugged, looking around Yuta’s shoulders. “Where’s Sicheng?”

“Living room,” Yuta said, waving it off. “Are you guys getting out of here?” He asked, pointing to them. “I can give you a ride wherever. I have to get Yukhei home anyway.”

Doyoung looked at Taeyong and shook his head. “No?”

Yuta stopped, no longer distracted by everything else going on all around them. His eyebrows creased, lips pressed together in confusion, like Doyoung was the only one who wasn’t in on what Yuta or Taeyong had planned on happening.

“Why?” Yuta motioned to Taeyong. “You don’t like him?”

“I don’t even know him.” Doyoung said even though it felt like he did.

“Right,” Yuta nodded, shouting over the music. “So hang out, get to know each other. I’ll meet up with you guys later.”

"You’re really leaving?” Taeyong said. “It’s almost midnight!”

"I'll be back in an hour!” Yuta said, moving backwards through the sea of people, grabbing the same kid who was yelling for Taeyong earlier off to the side by the neck of his shirt and pulling him with him. "Talk or something. Get to know each other!" And then he was swallowed by the crowd.

Taeyong watched the area Yuta disappeared into for a few seconds, lips parted in disbelief. “He’s never been good at being subtle.”

“Really?” Doyoung watched the empty space Yuta had been twenty seconds prior. “I couldn’t tell.”

Taeyong nodded. “Keep acting clueless. It helps with the embarrassment.”

“It’s nice,” Doyoung reassured him. “The way he keeps an eye on you.”

Taeyong laughed. “Nice, overprotective, weird as fuck. However you want to describe it.”

“Is Yukhei gonna’ be okay?”

“Should be,” Taeyong nodded. “He just needs to sleep it off.”

Doyoung nodded, and he wondered how many times his friends used that as an excuse for why he was never around anymore. He swayed on his feet, eyes shifting to the people around them, searching their faces for anyone familiar. He hadn’t been back to the living room for over an hour and the incessant vibrating of his phone in his back pocket let him know his friends had noticed. Doyoung should’ve sent them some sign of affirmation that he was okay, that he was actually having a good time, but he couldn’t force himself to focus on anything except Taeyong.

“Since they’re gone,” Taeyong said, drawing Doyoung’s eyes back to him. “I’m all yours now.”

Doyoung bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating before feeling brave. “I don’t think I’d know what to do if I had all of you.”

Taeyong laughed softly, eyes warm. “Where would you start?”

It didn’t feel like that question had a definite answer, or even one that Taeyong was searching for. And when he watched the expression on Taeyong’s face change with his hesitation, he knew Taeyong wouldn’t accept anything but the complete truth and even then, Doyoung still had no idea what to say to it.

“I have no idea,” Doyoung said, and the words felt too honest in his mouth.

The smile fell from Taeyong’s lips. “Come here,” He motioned towards the hallway, pushing himself off the kitchen counter and Doyoung didn’t have to be told before he was following him through the kitchen and into the packed hallway. They moved through a break in the crowd, past people passing out handfuls of golden confetti used to signal the new year, until they were standing off the staircase where it was quiet. “You don’t have to do anything with all of me,” Taeyong said, honest. “Not if you don’t want to.”

Doyoung frowned, but felt relief when Taeyong leaned in closer. A steady chorus of numbers counting down from thirty echoed through the house.

“I want to,” Doyoung said, and he wondered what he looked like staring at Taeyong in the hidden area of the stairway. He felt smaller than he actually was, like Taeyong should’ve been inches taller than him than the opposite. Doyoung told himself he wouldn’t stay past midnight, but that was before Taeyong. That night was different than anything he planned, but it was so hard searching for reasons as to why that mattered when Taeyong was looking at him the way he was. “I’ve just—never done anything like this before.”

“That’s okay,” Taeyong told him, eyes bright under the lights illuminating from the staircase landing. “I haven’t either.”

People surged past them up the stairs, bringing a steady wave of numbers with them— _ten, nine, eight, seven, six—_

Leaning in, Doyoung placed each of his hands on either side of Taeyong’s face, heart stilling in his chest for a moment. Taeyong looked at him, steady beneath his hands. It was almost midnight and he was probably never going to see Taeyong again. Doyoung moved in closer, letting out a soft breath, “Okay,” he said. “You’re all mine.”

Shouting and laughter surround them, surround the entire house, along with the slow movements of a song Doyoung had never heard playing lowly over the speakers, but above all that, he heard Taeyong breathing. Low pitched, the numbers move down _—five, four, three, two, one—_

Doyoung watched Taeyong’s face, the way his eyes slid shut when the voices reached three. The light overhead made Taeyong look golden and Doyoung thought everything was a dream or an alternate universe because he was about to kiss someone he had only met an hour prior, someone he barely knew at all. But despite this, he could still feel his lungs filling with air and his heart beating in the base of his chest, loud in his ears. He shut his eyes and leaned in.

His lips end up pressed to the corner of Taeyong’s mouth, and everything was warm and soft. Taeyong’s lips were a bit chapped, but they tasted like mint and whatever alcohol they had been drinking earlier. Doyoung let the warmth linger on his bottom lip for another second before he was pulling away.

It was chaos around them, people shouting _Happy New Years_ and throwing confetti high into the air, pieces raining down over Doyoung and Taeyong’s shoulders, getting caught in their hair and the hemline of their clothing. Doyoung barely noticed, though, too focused on Taeyong.

In the movement of the pull away, their eyes found each other. They stayed like that, just looking at each other for a few seconds before Taeyong was leaning in a brushing a piece of confetti from Doyoung’s cheek.

“Happy New Year,” Taeyong said in the space between them, hand lingering against the side of Doyoung’s face before it was falling back to his side.

“Yeah,” Doyoung said, dazed. “Happy New Year.”

Just as Taeyong opened his mouth to respond, there was the distinct sound of a voice yelling over the sounds of celebration except this time, Doyoung was the one being called for. He turned, facing the bulk of the party, and saw Mark fighting his way through the pulsations. Confetti clung to his hair, raining down over his shoulders with each step, his lips a bright shade of red from kissing Donghyuck into the New Year a minute ago, eyes kind and determined in the mess of it all. Doyoung didn’t question why, of all moments, he had finally been found when things started feeling right. He wasn’t sure on how to feel about any of it at all.

“Hyung!” Mark said over the chaos and when Doyoung’s eyes shifted over the top of his head, he realized Mark was alone. His cheeks were flushed from the heat of the party and when he noticed that Doyoung wasn’t alone either, he looked a little hesitant before he spoke again. “Sorry—”

“No,” Doyoung shook his head and smiled. “It’s okay,” he turned to Taeyong, taking his forearm under his hand. “Can you give me a minute? My friends have been looking for me and—”

“Yeah,” Taeyong nodded, urging Doyoung on. He looked at Mark and smiled. “Go ahead. I’ll be here.”

Doyoung took Mark’s shoulder under his arm, guiding him away from the staircase and into the hallway until they found a broken space in the surge of people. People pushed around them. Doyoung could smell weed around his head. His vision blurred from the smoke, from the heat, and for the first time since Taeyong found him upstairs, he felt like he was being forced underwater again.

“Who was that?” Mark asked when they stopped.

Doyoung shook his head, looking behind him down the hall to see Taeyong disappearing into the crowd until he couldn’t see him anymore. “No one.”

“He seems nice,” Mark said and then, “Did Jaehyun tell you about the party on campus? It sounds fun. Nothing crazy.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung let out a breath. “I think I’m just gonna’ head home.”

Mark looked up at him, shifting against the hallway wall. “Without us?”

Doyoung nodded. “Yeah. I’ll wait up until you guys get home.”

“Hyung,” Mark hesitated. “I don't know—”

“I think it’ll be good if I’m on my own for bit,” Doyoung interrupted, taking Mark’s shoulder in his hand to reassure him. “I’m okay. I promise. I know I’ve been…distant lately but I’m doing better. I swear. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Mark stared at him hard but then his expression was softening. “When are you leaving?”

“Soon,” Doyoung said. “Ten minutes.”

“Okay,” Mark nodded but he still looked unsure. “Us too probably. You’ll let Jaehyun or me know when you get home?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung nodded, forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and nudged Mark towards the living room where he knew the rest of their friends were. “Now go. Donghyuck’s probably freaking out that you’re missing.”

Mark smiled but then he was taking Doyoung’s forearm in his own saying, “I’m glad you came with us, hyung. I missed you.” He gave one last reassuring glance before he was slipping into the crowd and Doyoung was alone.

Before Jaehyun or anyone else had time to notice he hadn’t come back with Mark, Doyoung backtracked down the hallway and into the dining room until he wasn’t visible to his friends, until he was practically untraceable so he could catch his breath and plan an escape.

**

There was barely anyone in the dining room, just him and a few people passing through. The lights were different from the rest of the house, dimmer than anything else, and Doyoung was sure he could stay in there forever and never be found. He kind of felt like crying then. A frustrated, helpless cry. Something he did a lot in the past few months when he felt like he was fucking up his friends. Everyone was gone and he just wanted to get as far away as possible.

Doyoung could see the front door from his position in the dining room but it felt like oceans away instead. He was ready to start swimming, to get as far away from everyone as possible but then he saw a familiar flash of black hair through the sea of people and when Doyoung stepped out into the light, he saw Taeyong.

“Hey,” Doyoung said, soft at first and when Taeyong started walking in the opposite direction, he yelled louder. “Yong!” Taeyong turned instantly, face breaking into a relief when he saw who was calling for him.

In the center hallway where it branched off into separate parts of the house, Doyoung met Taeyong in the middle.

“I thought I lost you,” Doyoung told him.

“I’m here,” Taeyong smiled. “Thought I’d do some party-hosting while you were gone.”

“Wow,” Doyoung mused. “It’s good seeing you finally taking your role seriously.”

Taeyong nodded. “Oh yeah. I got at least two people refills.”

“ _At least_ ,” Doyoung repeated and then something got his attention down the hall and when his vision focused, he could see his friends around the front entryway. “I better get out of here then. I’d hate to get in the way of your hosting duties.”

“Do you have to leave? Right now?” Taeyong asked and his voice was soft.

Doyoung nodded, tearing his face from Taeyong’s and watched Taeil, Youngho and Ten slip through the front door. Mark and Donghyuck fell close behind with their hands intertwined. Jaehyun was behind them and Doyoung could see him do a onceover of the living room (like he was checking for Doyoung) before he was crossing the threshold and walking outside. In a weird way, Doyoung saw that as his one chance to escape completely.

“You can stay,” Taeyong said suddenly and when Doyoung turned back towards him, he noticed Taeyong was looking at the front door too. “I could walk you home or Yuta could drive you. Whatever you want.”

Taeyong was so warm in front of him, the proximity enough for Doyoung feel everything all at once. Doyoung felt everything but still, he pulled away.

“I—” Doyoung said, glancing towards the front door again. It wasn’t open anymore but he could still feel the cold air. “—have to go. I came here with friends and it’s getting—”

“Late, yeah,” Taeyong finished, smile fading from his mouth. Doyoung nodded slowly, unsure why it felt like his heart was beating so low in his chest. Taeyong’s eyes were dark under the dimmed lights of the hallway, his body shifting backwards a bit, like he was trying to give Doyoung space. “Okay. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung said, forcing his legs to move. Taeyong watched him step away and he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “See you around, Taeyong.”

Doyoung turned almost immediately, stumbling over feet and limbs, fighting his way to the door because he couldn’t breathe and he didn’t want Taeyong looking at him like that, not right now. He didn’t want to do anything except get as far away as possible.

The cold air was a slap to the face, enough to sober him and help his breathing even out.

He ran down the porch stairs, past a couple sitting on the bottom step, and across the snowy driveway until he was standing the middle of the dimly lit road, the wind cold against his face and his heart in his throat. Youngho’s car wasn’t parked along the sidewalk like it had been a few hours ago and he could barely see the house anymore when he looked back. It was just a small speck of yellow light flooding from the living room window.

Doyoung stood there for a few seconds, half-wanting a car to come out of nowhere and make everything stop but no one had been on that road in hours. He started to walk towards campus, towards home, but then he felt something ignite in the pit of his stomach. Something telling him to stop being so fucking dramatic. Something telling him to turn around.

Instead, Doyoung pulled out his phone and dialed a number numbly.

“Doyoung?” Jaehyun answered. “Where the hell are you? Mark said you left before us and—”

“I’m still at the party. I got caught up with something—with someone.” Doyoung looked over his shoulder to see if someone (if Taeyong) had followed him out of the house but it was just him and the dark street. “I just left.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine—” Doyoung shut his eyes. “I think I’m just gonna’ go home.”

“ _Home?_ ” Jaehyun said. “Doyoung, don’t. Just wait there and we’ll come pick you up and then we can go to one more party and—”

“No,” Doyoung cut in. “I’m tired, alright? I just want to be alone for a while.” There was no sound on the other end for a few seconds and Doyoung thought the called might’ve failed before Jaehyun spoke again.

“You always want to be alone,” Jaehyun’s voice was static in his ear. “We’re worried about you. We  _miss_  you.” 

Doyoung let out a breath. “I know—”

“If this is still about what happened with Seokwoo, I get it. I really do,” Jaehyun sighed on the other end. “But you can’t keep letting that get in the way of being yourself again. You can’t keep letting yourself be upset over him.”

“I’m not upset over him,” Doyoung said, honest.

"Then stop shutting us out," Jaehyun snapped, sounding more annoyed than Doyoung had heard him in months. "I miss you. And I know it's been hard the past couple months but we're here for you.  _I'm_  here for you. Stop trying to make us feel shitty for wanting to be around you.”

Jaehyun's voice was loud and sincere in his ear and Doyoung felt his chest warm from the sudden expression. He wanted to let Jaehyun know his disappearance wasn’t just because of his breakup with Seokwoo and what he did. He wished he could explain the looming feelings of destruction but couldn’t because all he _could_ do was think about pitch black hair, dark brown eyes, and nerves disguised with laughter. Doyoung should have met back up with his friends, got the young ones home safe, helped Ten sober up in the comfort of the dorm, laugh over all the dumb shit that happened during the party that he missed but he physically  _couldn't_  because all he could do was think about Taeyong and the warmth lining the pit of his stomach.

“Listen,” Doyoung said, sucking in a breath. “Should I go back to the party?” 

“What?” Jaehyun said on the other end. “Hyung, what are you—”

Doyoung closed his eyes. He needed to talk to someone, to _anyone_ else. “Just—give the phone to Youngho.” There was a pause on the other end, a hushed  _‘hyung, he wants to talk to you’_ , and then the sound of someone grabbing the phone and pressing it to their ear.

“Hey,” Youngho’s voice was clear against the static. “What’s up? Where are you?” 

“Hyung, what if I went back to the party?”

“Uh,” Youngho said. “What if you went back to the party? I don't know. What if you did? You think something might happen? Are you okay?"

Doyoung stopped walking through the street, snow sticking to the bottom of his jeans, eyes teary from the bite of the wind. “I’m fine. I'm going back. To the party. I'm not drunk so if something does happen, I'll be okay.”

“Yeah? Okay. That’s good,” Youngho sighed. “What happened?”

“I—” Doyoung closed his eyes and took a breath. “I just really think I’ll regret it if I don’t go back.”

There was a moment of nothing on both lines and then so much.

"Hey—" Youngho said in a voice he only used when someone needed reassurance or comfort or an excuse to break down. He had used the same voice on Doyoung the night after Seokwoo left. "I'm here for you, alright? And I'm gonna' support whatever decisions you make or whatever stuff you're going through," his voice was steady through the phone. "I know it's been shitty and I know we've been overbearing but we do love you, Doyoung. So go back to the party and something might happen. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Doyoung let out a deep breath. "See you later. Get home safe." And then hung up before Youngho, Jaehyun, or anyone else could say something supportive that might have made him start crying.

Halfway down the street, nose going numb from the wind, phone no longer pressed to his ear, Doyoung turned around.

**

A group of people were setting up fireworks in the snow of the front yard when Doyoung made his way up the steps, and if he hadn’t been so determined to find Taeyong in the next few seconds, he might’ve turned around to watch them go off.

Instead, he hurried up the front steps and pushed his way through the front door until he was enveloped by the crowd and all traces of cold disappeared. The house felt brighter than twenty minutes ago, the fluorescent lights illuminating from high above. Behind him, he heard people telling others to come out on the front lawn for the show. To his right, Doyoung noticed a couple slow dancing in the middle of the living room despite the fast track playing over the hidden speakers. He wondered if they just met that night or had been in love for years, he wondered if that really mattered.

Doyoung moved with the crowd through the entryway. He stopped focusing on the things going on all around him and cut through the hallway, determined on finding the only person on his mind and it wasn’t until he was at the bottom of the main staircase did his mind finally start to settle.

Through the dimly lit hallway, Doyoung saw Taeyong a distance away leaning against the entryway to the kitchen, eyes focused on Sicheng in front of him.

Taeyong looked almost unreal in the move of the party, features too sharp and intense for him to be as relaxed as he appeared. He held a lime green plastic cup loosely in one hand, the other shoved in the front pocket of his jeans. He looked calm, comfortable, like that spot was right where the universe intended him to be. Doyoung didn't suspect that Taeyong had changed much in the past twenty minutes he hadn't seen him, but he also didn't expect how relived he was that twenty-minutes-ago-Taeyong wasn't the last time he ever saw him.

He was still there, still comfortable in the heat of it all, still real. 

The crowd shifted then, bodies sliding past each other as people attempted to navigate their way through the growing party. In the front yard, Doyoung could hear the fireworks he passed on his way in start to go off, erupting the sky with a muted boom that shook the whole house, the hallway, the blood pumping in his chest. 

The next few moments went by in slow motion. Taeyong turned his head from Sicheng talking beside him, eyes scanning the moving crowd towards the cause of the sudden noise. Doyoung didn't move as more people spilled around him.

Taeyong's eyes met his.

He looked surprised at first before his expression was melting into a smile that spread across his face. Doyoung smiled back.

Taeyong passed his cup to Sicheng beside him, giving him a quick nod of the head before he was moving into the crowd. More fireworks went off outside, the brilliant colors illuminating through the living room windows and drenching everything in electric blue and baby pink. The color faded and then they were standing in front of each other.

"You stayed," Taeyong said over the music, eyes bright. "Thought that was the last time I saw you."

"I almost left," Doyoung nodded, letting the crowd push them off to the side until they were hugging the wall, Taeyong setting a steady but gentle hand on Doyoung's waist to steady him from the shift.

"Yeah?" Taeyong asked, leaning in. "What changed?"

Doyoung looked at him, studying the features of Taeyong's face. He noticed how close in proximity their bodies were, saw how Taeyong was looking at him like they were the only ones there, only ones on the planet. "Just wanted to make sure you were real." 

Taeyong smiled, softer that time, lips barely tugging up over his teeth. "I'm real," he said after a second, the hand on Doyoung's waist shifting so it was against the small of back, leading him off the wall. "Come on.”

Doyoung followed Taeyong closely, leaning into his side and allowing himself to be lead down the hallway and into a dark room past the staircase where a small group of people were seated around a TV. Bright images flickered across the screen and it took a few seconds before Doyoung was able to recognize it as news coverage of the fireworks going on for New Years.

The room was crisscrossed with the colors illuminating from the TV. Reds, yellows, and greens lit up the faces of those watching the screen closely. Doyoung watched a joint get passed around.

“They do this every New Years,” Taeyong said against his ear. “Get high and watch the news.”

“Every year?” Doyoung whispered. He leaned against the doorway, trying his hardest to remain unseen from the occupants of the room. It felt like he was intruding almost, like this yearly ritual was never met for his or anyone else’s eyes.

Taeyong nodded softly. “It’s tradition.” His face was half hidden in darkness, the other illuminated by red hues emitting from the TV. The smoke filtering around the room in slow lazy circles made him look like a ghost, and like Doyoung was saying _haunt me_ , he found Taeyong’s hand down by his side and laced their fingers together.

“Did you really come back because of me?” Taeyong asked softly but he looked like he already knew the answer.

“No,” Doyoung lied. “I came back because I love to party.”

Taeyong eyed him for a few seconds. “You’re a shit liar.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Doyoung bumped him with his shoulder. “I’m a party animal.”

“Yeah?” Taeyong asked, smiling. “I had no idea.”

“You should’ve seen me during syllabus week,” Doyoung said. He couldn’t remember what he did the first week of fall semester, probably something with Seokwoo. Doyoung was sure not being able to remember what he did with his ex-boyfriend must have meant something. “I needed to be physically restrained.”

“Wow,” Taeyong mused. “I kind of love that.”

Dark figures shifted in the room. Some stood up from the couch to wander through other parts of the house, not giving Doyoung or Taeyong a second look as they passed by them through the doorway. Another pulled out a joint from their jean pocket and lit it, the flame dancing across the room slowly. It felt like the flame was between their hands laced together.

“Okay,” Doyoung said finally, voice quiet. “You’re right. I’m a shit liar. What you said upstairs—about me needing a distraction. You were right.”

Taeyong listened, unmoving in the doorway. Smoke swirled over their heads looking distorted in the shadows.

“I wasn’t done being distracted when I left,” Doyoung exhaled and it was already easier to breathe. “So I came back.”

Taeyong smiled, teeth a brilliant white in the light of the TV. “I’m glad you did,” he said through his glowing mouth.

Hushed conversations filtered through the doorway, iridescent lighting mixing with the expanse of the dark room and glowing TV set. Somewhere, cold air filtered through the room raising goosebumps to Doyoung’s skin. It was so easy to get distracted and caught up in everything going on around him but Taeyong’s hand in his own pulled him back every time he felt himself starting to drift.

Doyoung wasn’t drunk but it felt like he was.

“Minho,” Taeyong called gently. Across the room, a guy wearing a denim jacket and black jeans stood up from the couch, maneuvering himself around spread out limbs before he was standing in front of them.

“Where the _fuck_ have you been?” Minho said when he reached them, pulling Taeyong into his chest and hugging him. “Jinki’s been looking for you all night.” 

“I know,” Taeyong said as he pulled away. “You know how he is—”

“Yeah, but I still think you should let him find you eventually. He hasn’t seen you in over a year.”

“Later,” Taeyong assured. “Don’t tell him you saw me, okay?” Minho hesitated at first but then his face was softening and he nodded. “This is my friend Doyoung, by the way. Doyoung, meet Minho.”

Doyoung held out a hand and smiled when Minho shook it back. “Nice to meet you.”

“Doyoung,” Minho said, eyes warm on him. The channel on the TV switched and suddenly, the room lit up with white light. “He tell you about these things? Or is he keeping you in the dark?”

“In the dark,” Doyoung said, knocking his shoulder into Taeyong’s. “He’s not too good at communicating but I can tell he’s trying—”

“ _Hey_ ,” Taeyong said, shoving Doyoung slightly with his hand, making all three of them laugh. “I’m _great_ at communication.”

“Don’t worry, Doyoung. He’s kept us all in the dark for the past two years,” Minho smiled. “Thanks for hanging out with him anyway.” He motioned to the situation around them, pausing as he rummaged through his back pocket for a moment before pulling out a rolled joint. He held it between his fingers for a second before he was taking out a lighter and holding the flame to the end. Doyoung felt the heat from the spark against his cheeks. After the end ignited and taking a long drag, Minho held it out to Taeyong.

“No,” Taeyong shook his head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Minho made a face. “You sure? It’s your party,” he faced Doyoung. “What about you?”

Doyoung declined and gave a submissive “I’m good,” before Minho was passing it to someone off to the side.

“Alright,” Minho said through a cloud of smoke as he exhaled. “Give me five minutes and we can catch up. I’ll let you know if I see Jinki looking for you,” he clapped Taeyong on the shoulders and then nudged Doyoung and said, “Don’t let him leave, Doyoung. This is _his_ goddamn party.” And then he was ducking out of the room and into the crowded hallway.  

“Who’s Jinki?” Doyoung asked when he was gone, softly so only Taeyong would hear. 

Taeyong let out a breath. “He’s a friend.”

“Why don’t you want to see him?” 

Taeyong ducked his head. “We were planning on moving after this semester to China but these past few months have been…weird for me, and I don’t really want to go to anymore.”

“Does he know?”

Taeyong nodded. “I told him a couple weeks ago and he’s been doing everything to try and convince me to go. This party was half his idea, and I know it was just him trying to find a way to make me listen.”

“Why don’t you want to go?” Doyoung watched two people across the room start slow dancing to the audio of the TV.

“It doesn’t feel like going there is what I’m supposed to be doing,” Taeyong started, voice low in his chest. “I don’t know. It’s like, I barely come home anyways, and moving to a new country feels like I’m trying to escape even though there’s nothing forcing me out,” the sound system in the living room powered out, leaving the entire house in momentary silence before a new song ignited through the walls. “I don’t want to keep people in the dark anymore and moving feels like it’ll do the exact opposite of that.” He took a deep breath. “You see those people over there?” Taeyong motioned to two people off to the side from the rest of their group. They sat close together on the end of the couch, one resting their head on the others shoulder. Between their legs, their hands were laced together.

Doyoung nodded.

“They’re in love.” Taeyong said softly. “They think they’re soulmates.”

“Yeah?” Doyoung looked at the couple practically glowing in the light of the TV. “Who are they?”

“Yoongi and Jimin,” Taeyong said. “Old friends. They’re eloping after winter.”

Doyoung watched the two of them look at each other. “Where will they go?”

Taeyong shrugged and then he was smiling. “I don’t think they even know.”

The thought of eloping somewhere else—somewhere that wasn’t Seoul felt inviting to Doyoung in a way. Being able to start over with someone you loved in a place no one knew who you were had never made more sense to him than right there in that house. Watching two people love each other even in the dark room where they didn’t know anyone was watching was enough evidence for Doyoung to know that things could be like that for anyone.

“They’re moving for a good reason,” Taeyong said. “To start a life and a family together. It made me realize how unimportant my reasons for moving are.”

Doyoung watched Yoongi turn his head and kiss Jimin soft on his cheek before settling his eyes back on the TV. “What were your reasons?”

Taeyong shook his head. “I never had any.”

“If Jinki finds you,” Doyoung said. “What do you think he’ll do?”

“I’ve been avoiding him all night,” Taeyong shrugged. “I don’t really wanna’ find out.”

“I’m good at hiding,” Doyoung said and then, “Do you think they’re soulmates?” He motioned to Yoongi and Jimin before looking over at Taeyong. There were people surging past them through the doorway and Doyoung sort of wished they were alone.

“Yeah,” Taeyong nodded thoughtfully, eyes still focused on Yoongi and Jimin in the dim room. “The way they are together has to be something the universe planned.” 

Doyoung stayed quiet after that, letting the warmth of Taeyong’s hand in his own and the darkness of the room wash over him until it felt like time around him was slowing, like he was on another planet. He felt Taeyong’s eyes drift towards him and for a moment, they stayed like that—eyes on each other, hands connected, breathing slow.

“Yong!” Someone yelled suddenly from outside the doorway, and when Doyoung looked, he could see Minho shoved up close against the wall like he was avoiding someone. “Come here!”

Taeyong stepped out into the light of the hallway, pulling Doyoung with him. “What’s up?”

Minho looked down the hallway before he was motioning for them to follow him. They did, sidestepping through the crowd until the three of them were standing off to the side in the dining room. It was crowded, the air hot and stuffy as it circulated around the house. People pooled around the dining room table, faces turned downwards so they could watch whatever drinking game was going on against the table. Doyoung and Taeyong hugged the back wall where it was less packed and less intense.

“Jinki’s pissed,” Minho said eventually, voice loud over the rest of the room. “And he’s looking for you.”

“Still? Can’t you tell him I left with Yuta or something?”

Minho shook his head. “Yuta’s back already. He’s in the living room right now trying to stall him.”

“He’s fucking killing me,” Taeyong hung his head back, looking over at Doyoung before saying, “Maybe we should leave.”

“You could do that,” Minho interrupted, blinking twice. “Or you could hide.”

**

“Shit,” Taeyong said behind him, voice hitching with laughter. “ _Run_ , Doyoung.” 

Doyoung lead them further up the stairs, hand outstretched behind him holding onto Taeyong’s. The staircase was wide but with the steady flow of people going up and down, it was almost impossible to navigate at the speed he wanted to go. Doyoung could barely hear Minho yelling from the dining room anymore, just the faint tick off of seconds they had before Jinki could stop and find them. Doyoung felt like he was in another universe.

When they reached the landing, Doyoung and Taeyong cut off onto separate sides of the hallway, reaching for doorknobs and jiggling them until (hopefully) one of them opened. The first one Doyoung touched was locked and it wasn’t until the second one he tried was also locked did the panic start to set in.

“Try all of them,” Taeyong whispered motioning down the hallway, an urgency in his voice as the second door he tried was locked.

The moment Minho suggested hiding, Doyoung already knew exactly what their next move was going to be. There was no hesitation before they exchanged a wordless glance and Doyoung was taking Taeyong by his wrist and pulling him through the hallway and up the stairs. At the moment, he had no idea how long they had until Jinki would find Taeyong and swipe him up in something Doyoung knew he had no part in joining. They could’ve left the party and been safe from confrontation completely, but in a way, Doyoung felt like everything would end the moment they stepped outside of whatever universe the party existed.

“Here,” Taeyong urged suddenly. He was halfway down the long hallway, eyes bright under a fluorescent light illuminating from an open doorway at the end of the hall. His right hand was clenched tightly on the doorknob of an unknown door and when Doyoung got closer, he could see it was already ajar.

The two of them pushed in and were drowned in darkness.

Behind him, Doyoung shut the door tightly, bracing himself slightly against it like someone was moments away from trying to push in. He waited a second, two, and suddenly it was just him and Taeyong.

"Taeyong?" He whispered, even though the rest of the party was already a million miles away. "Where are you?"

"Here," Taeyong's voice floated from across the room. "Follow my voice."

"Follow your voice," Doyoung echoed, holding his hands out in front of his body and inching forward. "Genius."

Taeyong's laughter vibrated off the walls and Doyoung would have told him to  _shhh_  if his cheeks weren't so warm and his heart wasn’t beating so loud.

"Say something," Taeyong whispered after his laughter died now, his hands roaming on the back wall of the bedroom. "Doyoung—”

"I'm here," Doyoung said, knees bumping into what he suspected was a bed. "Right here."

There was a flurry of noise then, the smooth sound of metal sliding across metal as a curtain opened up across the room. Grey light flooded in, the glow of the moon peeking out through the clouds, drowning everything in muted light.

"Okay," Taeyong said as the curtains fell away. "I  _am_  a genius." 

"What would I do without you?" Doyoung said, stepping into the light and taking a look around the room. 

"Be lost in the dark," Taeyong turned around. "Where should we go?"

The room was stygian, edges lit up in silver and white, but it already felt easier to navigate with the moonlight. There was the bed he had bumped into earlier, a dresser, a night stand, and a chair wedged up in the corner. Other than that it was empty, out in the open, easily searchable. Internally, Doyoung weighed their options—hide under the bed, climb out the window to the roof, or risk finding another bedroom. In the hallway, Doyoung could hear footsteps.

"Should we go somewhere else?" Taeyong whispered into the air of the room, eyes focused on the doorway.

"No," Doyoung sighed. "It's too late. Maybe you should just explain to him—”

“I will,” Taeyong said, his chest rising. “But not tonight.”

Outside the footsteps grew louder, the unmistakable noise of feet running up the stairs, and Doyoung was ready to pull Taeyong under the bed with him when he noticed a door on the wall to the left of the door.

“In here,” Doyoung said finally, crossing the room, pushing the door open, and finding himself in the doorway of a bathroom. It was dark, but he could make out the outline of a rug on the floor and the edges of a mirror reflecting the clouded light. He turned and saw Taeyong standing by the window, half his face drowning in moonlight. “Come on.”

**

Doyoung shut the door behind them, leaned against the cool wood, and took a deep breath.

A window opposite of the door let in a little bit of clouded light.

There was an ivory claw foot bathtub, the walls navy blue and bare, a picture of a cherry blossom tree hung above the toilet, a towel rack holding up two identical white towels, a thin blue shower curtain draping downwards and over the lip of the tub, a black curtain shoved to the side against a window above the bathtub. The air was cold, like the furnace hadn't been on in days, the light from the moon washing out the tile floor in a glowing light blue.

"This is good," Taeyong said, breaking away from the bathroom door and standing in the middle of the floor. “We can stay here.”

Doyoung looked at him. “Yeah?”

Taeyong nodded. “Unless you wanna’ try squeezing out of the window onto the roof—”

“No,” Doyoung cut him off. “Here’s fine.”

“Twenty minutes at least,” Taeyong stepped into the moonlight coming in through the window. His face turned electric blue under the filtered light, eyes practically drowning beneath the color. “And then Minho will give us the go.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung said again but that time it didn’t sound like a question. He didn’t care about how long they needed to stay in the bathroom or whether or not hiding would dissuade Jinki from getting the answers he wanted, Doyoung was just glad to be alone with Taeyong at all.

“Hey,” Taeyong whispered suddenly, pressing himself against the dark blue shower curtain. “Can you see me?”

Because of the filtered moonlight coming in through the window, Doyoung couldn’t really see him. Just the darker outline of his body and even if he squinted, all Taeyong looked like was a weird pattern against the shower curtain. Outside, it was snowing flurries. The sky was pale white and closed off with clouds, the moon the only thing visible when the wind made a break in the clouds.

“No.” Doyoung whispered into space. He let himself fall backwards, his body making a small _thud_ when the wall caught him. He crossed his arms over his chest to keep out the cold of the bathroom, let his hung hang back, and watched Taeyong cross the small space until he was mirroring Doyoung’s position and leaning against the wall with him.

“Why didn’t you want to smoke downstairs?” Doyoung asked against the darkness. He felt like the ghost now.

Taeyong shifted beside him. “I didn’t want to be fucked up and floaty. I wanted to make sure I’m all here with you.”

Doyoung thought back to down in the kitchen when Yuta first interrupted them, Taeyong knocking his drink over and never picking up another one again when they were together. That was hours ago and the alcohol Doyoung had consumed was long gone, completely burned out of his system. There was nothing clouding them from being completely together.

“You are,” Doyoung said after a moment, quiet. “It’s just you, me, and this bathroom.”

“You and me,” Taeyong repeated, voice a soft echo against the walls. “Taeyong and Doyoung.”

Taeyong was going to be gone in a few hours, that night nothing more than a party his friends threw for him. Doyoung knew he was leaving soon, and it was weird that he could already feel himself _miss_ him. They had only met a couple hours ago but when Doyoung looked at Taeyong, it was like looking at someone he was so familiar with. Doyoung felt lighter somehow, better than he had in months. He liked that there wasn’t any feeling of urgency between them, that leaving had always been Taeyong’s plan from the moment he came home for New Years.

From the moment they met, Doyoung felt like he already knew what would happen when the party ended. He was glad to see Taeyong off on his last night in Seoul. And days, weeks, months in the future, Doyoung will think of Taeyong and see February. He’ll see a frozen street void of life. The light of the moon. The noise of muffled music through closed doors. He’ll see a TV set showing fireworks bursting against the screen, red and white and yellow, filling the sky and then the darkness of the night once they’ve burnt out forever.

Doyoung could feel himself already miss Taeyong but there wasn’t any sadness to it yet, just an underlying feeling of appreciation that he met him at all.

It was a lot to think about all at once and suddenly the heat of Taeyong next to him felt overwhelming and Doyoung couldn’t breathe for a minute. He pushed off the wall, gaining some space from Taeyong in the small space of the bathroom. Doyoung let his weight fall against the countertop, hands clutching the sides of the sink until it didn’t feel like he was about to fall over. In the mirror, he looked the same and it wasn’t until he saw Taeyong in the reflection behind him did he realize how easier it had been to breathe when he was touching him.

Doyoung took a deep breath and then turned around, lifting himself backwards onto the sink, heels of his shoes hitting the lower cupboards as he positioned himself. The music downstairs was shaking through the walls and Doyoung couldn’t make out any of the lyrics but he liked how it sounded like they were underwater or deep in outer space. He wondered if Jinki was getting close to finding them but the house was massive and a small bathroom tucked away in a spare bedroom seemed like the last place anyone would look.

“You look like a ghost,” Taeyong whispered into the dark bathroom.

Doyoung looked down, his skin drowning in moonlight. “I feel like one.”

“Are you haunting me?”

Doyoung shook his head. “I don’t haunt Hongdae natives.”

“ _Wow_ ,” Taeyong said. “Hongdae is fucking great.”

“In the summer maybe,” Doyoung shrugged. “You’re just biased.”

“You’re just thinking about the tourist traps,” Taeyong said. He moved across the tile floor a little closer, until they were only a foot away from touching. “I’ll show you the real Hongdae when we go.”

“When we go?” Doyoung repeated.

Taeyong nodded. “I’ll take you.”

Doyoung could see them in Hongdae in the dead of August, hand in hand, walking through the back alleyways, stopping at the free market and sharing ice cream under the front awning, Taeyong telling him about where he grew up and the significance every street. He could see himself meeting Taeyong’s parents, spending the night on the living room couch but sneaking into Taeyong’s room in the middle of the night so they could sleep together instead, talking softly in the dark, the two of them helping Taeyong’s mom make breakfast in the morning.

“Okay,” Doyoung said, softly. He felt dizzy.

Taeyong smiled, leaning in and setting his legs on either sides of the cabinet to hold himself up. Cold air hit Doyoung's thigh where Taeyong's hand used to be. In the hallway, on another planet, a million miles away, Doyoung could hear people running past, laughter muffled by the walls, the closed door, the bedroom separating them the rest of the party.

"It’s cold," Taeyong said after a while, reaching towards the towel rack, pulling back when he got what he was looking for. "Here." He held one of the towels in his hands, unfolding it before placing it across his thighs and the lower section of Doyoung's torso. 

“You’re crazy,” Doyoung said. He couldn't see much since the curtain was blocking off most of the moonlight, but his eyes finally adjusted enough that he could see Taeyong's silhouette, in front of him (against him), and his teeth whenever he smiled.

“Yeah,” Taeyong lifted the second towel around his shoulders to completely block out the cold, smiling as he did it. “Crazy about you.”

“God,” Doyoung laughed. He felt Taeyong sink closer against his knees, the added weight bringing warmth and stability to their position. Taeyong was practically drowning in the towel around him and when Doyoung’s vision focused on him in the dim light, he could see him moving closer. “What are you doing?”

"Checking something," Taeyong leaned forwards, bracing his hands on the counter space beside Doyoung’s hips. His lips brushed the skin above the neck of Doyoung's t-shirt. "Give me a minute." 

Doyoung laughed lowly into the space above him and the dark shadows on the ceiling really did make it seem like they were on the moon. On the dark side where no one could see them.

"What are you checking?" Doyoung asked when Taeyong's lips slowly started to inch up the side of his neck. The feeling gave him goosebumps everywhere despite how hot his entire upper body felt.

Taeyong stopped moving when he reached the spot where blood was pumping, lips flat against the pulse. "If you're real or not."

"So," Doyoung said after a pause, tipping his head back so Taeyong could have more space against his neck if he wanted. His heart was beating so loud in his ears. "Am I?"

"Yeah," Taeyong hummed, lifting his face from Doyoung's neck for a few moments, cold air hitting the exposed skin. He leaned forward again, except this time his lips were pursed, the red of his mouth warm against the darkness of the bathroom, and placed a kiss above the pulse. "You’re real."

Doyoung shut his eyes, willed the heat building up in the pit of his stomach to calm down, licked his bottom lip to try and calm his nerves. His hands were shaking—from the cold and from Taeyong. His body didn’t feel his own anymore.

“You’re real,” Doyoung whispered, eyes still closed. “ _I’m_ real. We have so much in common.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said and Doyoung could hear him laugh under his breath. “I’m probably your soulmate or something.”

Doyoung opened his eyes, finding Taeyong’s face hovering near his in the dark. Taeyong’s skin looked electric blue under the moonlight. Something loud popped outside the window, artificial red color filling the room for a second before it was gone forever.

“Only if I’m yours.” Doyoung said, cheeks burning.

Taeyong's hand were like ice against the sides of his neck but Doyoung didn't pull away from the sensation. He hadn’t felt like this in months. Maybe even years. Doyoung didn’t think he had ever felt like that in his life.

"You are," Taeyong said casually into the distance between them, warm breath fawning over his cheeks. Doyoung felt something in his chest ignite and suddenly all he could feel was warmth. "Doyoung—"

"Taeyong," Doyoung said back, resting his hands on Taeyong's waist that was pressing up against the space between his legs, sighing softly when he felt Taeyong shift forward. “I’m here.”

Taeyong let out a shallow breath then, eyes sliding shut, black hair stark against the navy blue walls all around them, and as Doyoung started to feel the world fade out, he reached forward. 

All he could feel was heat when Taeyong's lips met his. The bathroom, the bedroom, the party, the city all powered out. Nothing else existed but them. There was light, an electric glow, moving through Doyoung's veins, across the expanse of his chest, down the length of his legs, in the back of his head. Taeyong took a breath in, tongue soft against Doyoung's bottom lip, and pulled back. Doyoung, dazed and cheeks hot, looked up at him and could see him perfectly clear. 

"Fuck," Taeyong said, leaning down again, hands shifting up from Doyoung's neck, thumb brushing across his bottom lip. " _Fuck_."

Doyoung started to let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in when the bathroom door opened and artificial yellow light flooded in. 

It was quick, a familiar voice filling the entire space of the bathroom.

"There you are,” Minho said, pulling the towel from around Taeyong’s shoulders. “The coast is clear. He’s gone,” and then he turned around, smiling, and left.

"Shit," Taeyong said, staring at the open door, squinting against the light.

Doyoung rolled his eyes but smiled, sliding off the counter when Taeyong leaned back on the balls of his feet, untangling the towel from around their waists as he moved away. It was quiet for a moment, the two of them standing across from each other with a strip of moonlight the only thing separating them. Doyoung moved to speak, to close the distance, when he noticed a small rectangle of the bedroom drowning in yellow light from the opened door leading towards the hallway. He moved towards it, stopping once he reached the edge of the light. “It looks like summer,” Doyoung said about the light, stretching a hand out and letting it get enveloped by the warmth.

People passed by in the hallway, their shadows dancing across the long section of light on the floor and they looked like ghosts wandering through the house, searching for something or someone to bring them back to life.

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, meeting Doyoung at the edge, shoulders knocking together. "It’s nice."

**

Sometime while they were hiding, the music had been turned up louder.

People were shouting when Doyoung and Taeyong got downstairs. They ignored it, rushing through the crowd of people and down the hallway, past an assortment of multi-colored lights lining the banister until they were standing at the front door and throwing it open, stepping out onto the porch and leaving the party behind. 

The sky was pitch black.

“It’s quiet,” Taeyong said after a moment, shoving his hands deep in his jean pockets.

The lawn was blanketed with a fresh layer of snow, surface so smooth it didn’t look real. The other houses down and across the street were still dark and dead to the world. Next to the deck was a pile of burned firework packages, half-covered from the snow. When Doyoung closed his eyes, he could see the bright colors bouncing off the black sky but then he forced them open.

The empty street reminded Doyoung of the sea, still and untouched.

“Your party’s lame,” Doyoung said, stepping past Taeyong and down the stairs, imprinting his feet fresh in the new snow. “Can barely hear the music anymore.”

“Lame?” Taeyong said from behind him. “ _Lame?_ ” Doyoung heard him laugh. “You want me to get you kicked out?”

Doyoung stopped in the middle of the lawn and turned to face Taeyong still standing on the porch. “Did you just threaten to kick me out?”

Taeyong nodded. 

“Wow,” Doyoung turned back around and kicked up some snow with his feet. “Ulsan changed you.”

Taeyong didn’t say anything, just laughed as he walked down the steps and into the snowy lawn. He stomped around in a circle, leaving perfect footprints in his path. The sky opened up above them, thick flurries drifting down and around the city.

“Who’s house is this anyway?” Doyoung asked against the cold air. In the distance, he could hear the faint sound of fireworks being lit off.

“Minho’s,” Taeyong wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, fighting the cold away from his already chapped lips. “His parents let him have it when they moved further south."

“Yeah?” Doyoung looked past Taeyong a few yards away and up at the house. It was practically breathing warmth against the night. All the windows were illuminated with soft hazy light. In the living room, Doyoung could see the moving shadows of people dancing with the faint music barely audible through the closed front door. “That’s nice.”

Taeyong nodded. “Yeah,” his nose was pink. “They’ve been great like that since I was a kid.”

Doyoung didn’t say anything else, didn’t really want to focus on anyone else except Taeyong. It was just them in the front yard but Doyoung wanted him closer, wanted to feel less exposed to the outside world. He wished the party was over and the house was empty again. He wished they were back in the bathroom where it felt like they were the only people on the planet.

“You’re in my head.” Taeyong broke the quiet, looking down at his legs. The snow almost came up to his shins.

Doyoung faced him. “Why?”

“Don’t know,” Taeyong said, lips tilting up but he looked embarrassed almost. “You just are." 

Doyoung paused, crossing the rest of the lawn until his feet were on the sidewalk, letting out a breath when Taeyong met him there. “I’m in your head.” He said, flatly. The words felt weird coming out of his mouth. 

Taeyong nodded. “You need to get out of there,” He shuffled downwards a few feet, eventually stopping and leaning against a parked car. “You’re driving me crazy.” 

Doyoung looked at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re dramatic?"

“Couple times,” Taeyong said. “Only when I’m drunk, though.”

“Oh shit. What do you do when your drunk?”

“Cry sometimes. I’m a cancer."

“That—” Doyoung started, following Taeyong’s footprints until they were only a foot apart and Doyoung could feel him radiating heat. “Explains a lot.”

Taeyong let out a deep breath. “It’s a curse.”

Doyoung laughed out in the open, out loud. The noise vibrated off the empty cars and houses, off the snowflakes falling hard to the ground. It felt foreign to him, the feeling of his stomach tightening with actual genuine laughter. Doyoung laughed again and then he was leaning backwards, sucking in the February night until his lungs were full completely. His chest burned. 

Talking to Taeyong—being with him—was nice. Nicer than Doyoung could describe. But it was weird at the same time. It almost felt like he was putting up a front, like he wasn’t showing Taeyong who he had been the past few months. Everything since September felt unimportant and dark and for some reason, Doyoung didn’t think it was okay for Taeyong to look at him like the past hours was what Doyoung was always like. He was in Taeyong’s head.

It felt like he was lying and Taeyong didn’t deserve that.

“What if I told you I’m having a hard time right now?” Doyoung started cautiously, feeling braver than he had in years.

Taeyong froze, smile fading. “With what?”

“Everything,” Doyoung said. He looked down the street, focusing on the cars lining the sidewalks. In the distance he could see the exact moment when he decided to turn back around—when he decided to go back to Taeyong. The quiet of the neighborhood reminded him of the night Seokwoo left, when Doyoung didn’t know what else to do other than lay out in the middle of the lawn in front of his dorm building, eventually falling asleep in the grass. “This is the first time I've been anywhere in a while," Doyoung said against the cold air. "To a party, out of my dorm."

Taeyong looked at him, stifled a shiver. "Why?"

"Everything was happening, a lot of stuff all at once. I don’t know," Doyoung looked away. "It was just a lot."

"Everything," Taeyong repeated, voice slow due to the cold. His cheeks were a bright red. "Like what?"

Doyoung glanced back at him. "Bad break up, mostly. It wasn't even that honestly. I just felt—I don't know. I just wanted to be alone for a while."

Taeyong nodded, licked his bottom lip. "Sorry," he said, sounding genuinely concerned. "That sounds shitty."

"Yeah," Doyoung said, pulling the neck of his sweater past his chin to bite back the cold. "It was."

“What does it feel like? What you’re going through now?”

“I just feel like even when I’m with people I love and who love me, I’m always just looking for an excuse to be alone,” Doyoung said. “Like being alone is always going to be the best place for me to be. It’s stupid.”

“No,” Taeyong shook his head. “It’s not.”

Doyoung let himself be heard. “Things have been really bad since September. Nothing’s really gone right,” he took a deep breath. “I feel like I’m just floating through things.”

The sky around him was so black and barren of stars. The houses lining the street weren’t moving with the motions of the world. Everything was quiet and dark. Doyoung’s head felt foggy and then Taeyong was looking him

“I came here with my friends,” Doyoung said against the cold. “And then I hid from the most of the night.”

“Why?” Taeyong asked, concerned.

Doyoung ran a hand down his face. “They think I should be better now even though they all look at me like I’m a ghost, like they’re trying to hang onto the idea that I’ll be like I was before. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

Jaehyun was the one who found Doyoung in the grass the morning after, waking Doyoung up and dragging him into their dorm room just as the sun started to come up. Doyoung couldn’t even tell Jaehyun what was wrong when he asked, just cried until he fell asleep beside him on the living room couch. They hadn’t talk about that morning in September once but Doyoung knew Jaehyun thought about it every time they were together.

“That’s okay,” Taeyong said. “You don’t have to. I get what you’re trying to say. They think they’re trying when they’re really not.”

Doyoung glanced up at him. “It’s not even about them trying to get me out of whatever I’m in. It’s the fact they think ignoring what happened is what’ll help me.”

Taeyong opened his mouth and then shut it again, thinking. “I think they’re afraid bringing it up will just set you back more. They’re probably worried about you.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung sighed. “It’s weird, though. I don’t feel like they’ll have to worry about me anymore. I don’t feel like I’m going to be as bad after tonight.”

Taeyong listened and then he was asking, "Do you still feel like being alone?"

Since the moment it happened, the only thing Doyoung wanted was to be alone, and he was willing to lose friendships to try and make that as obtainable as possible. But now he was standing in the middle of a sidewalk with snow falling around him and a guy he had only known for a few hours making him feel something, and for the first time in months, Doyoung wished his friends were with him to see it. He took a deep breath, looking at Taeyong standing a few feet away. "Not anymore.”

Taeyong nodded, smiled, and then a few moments passed before he was glancing towards the house and saying: "Wanna do something cool?"

**

Doyoung sighed. "How is this supposed to be cool?"

"Hey," Taeyong said, looking down at him from his position on the roof, booted feet inching slowly across the frozen over surface. The snow wasn't coming down as hard anymore so Doyoung could see him perfectly clear. "This is cool as  _fuck_."

"Sure," Doyoung called back, tucking the ends of his sweater over his fingertips, metal ladder frozen beneath his hands. “Please don’t fall.”

Taeyong laughed under his breath, inching towards an open window a few feet from his position on the roof. Doyoung wasn’t sure who or why someone would leave a window open in the middle of February, in the middle of a snowstorm, with a metal ladder left casually against the side of the house, but from how excited Taeyong was about it made Doyoung wish the window would never be closed again.

Behind him, fairy lights covered a wide expanse of the snow covered garden. The lights streamed together closely, giving off just enough light for Doyoung to see everything Taeyong was doing on the roof.

“What if it’s the same room we hid in?” Doyoung asked, looking up.

“It’s not,” Taeyong said, finally reaching the window and gripping the edge of the sill. “That’s on the other side.”

“Is your major architecture?”

“No,” Taeyong laughed, sticking his head in the window before pulling it back out again. “Sound engineering.”

“Shit,” Doyoung mused. “That’s cool.” He watched Taeyong climb over the sill of the window, disappearing completely into the room. Doyoung could barely notice the cold around him anymore, and it wasn’t snowing anymore which made him feel better about Taeyong being ten feet up on the roof. Fireworks would go off in the distance every few minutes, red sparks glowing against the dark. “What do you have against stairs?”

“What do you have against fun?”

“Stairs are fun,” Doyoung said and then, “How’d you know the window would be open?”

“Yukhei,” Taeyong’s voice filtered through the window before he was stepping out on the roof again. Doyoung watched Taeyong start back down the way he came up. “He was looking for this guy and when we came out on the back patio, I looked up and saw it was open.”

Doyoung nodded. His fingers were going numb. “Did he find him?”

Taeyong crept to the edge of the roof, securing his footing completely on the highest rung of the ladder he had used to climb up before scaling downwards, one foot after another. “No. That’s why Yuta had to take him home. He was drunk and upset.”

“Who was he looking for?” Doyoung said just as Taeyong stepped down completely, feet planted firmly on the ground again.

“Kim Jungwoo,” Taeyong moved in until there was only a feet of space between their chests. Doyoung could see how pink Taeyong’s cheeks were from the cold air. “I’ve never met him but Yukhei’s already pretty attached.”

“Jungwoo,” Doyoung repeated. “I know him. He’s friends with one of my roommates. I saw him earlier tonight with them. That’s who Yukhei’s been looking for?”

Taeyong nodded. “Yukhei thinks they’re soulmates, and when I told him that his soulmate wouldn’t be deliberately be ignoring him at a party he’s _definitely_ at, it’s probably not meant to be.”

“What’d he say to that?”

“Nothing,” Taeyong pushed off the side of the house and started towards the empty backyard. “He just cried.”

“Wow,” Doyoung said, following Taeyong into the snow. “You’re pretty shit at being the emotional support.”

Taeyong turned back towards him, shaking his head. “I’m really not. He just needed to hear the truth.”

Doyoung stilled, thinking back to the two years he was with Seokwoo, wondering if Jaehyun or Ten or Youngho ever considered telling Doyoung what they thought Seokwoo’s real intentions might have been. He wondered if they knew from the beginning that things would end with Doyoung alone in his bed, paralyzed with confusion of what he did wrong, leaving him with a bruised chest and the inability to go anywhere at all. He wondered where he’d be if he knew the truth months before so he had time to prepare for the inevitable but most of all, Doyoung wondered if he would’ve listened to what anyone had to say at all.

“What if he doesn’t want to listen to the truth?” Doyoung asked. He stepped away from the house, following Taeyong’s pre-made footsteps so no more snow would soak into his shoes. They passed by a white awning, Christmas lights laced through the openings of the pattern, blinking yellow into the snow.

“I already know he won’t,” Taeyong said eventually, stopping at a stone bench. He brushed the snow off with his forearm and sat down, making room for the both of them. Doyoung followed, cold rushing in when he sat. “It’s more about what Jungwoo does at this point. He either wants him or he doesn’t. Yukhei’s ready for either.”

Being ready for either—rejection or love—didn’t sound like an easy trade off. Rejection was the simple option, cold and to the point, and Yukhei was already familiar with it since Jungwoo had ignored him the whole night. Love was the hard one, intense and unpredictable. Jungwoo could decide to love Yukhei back but even then, the feelings might never stay permanent and if that was outcome, Yukhei would get hurt no matter what Jungwoo chose. Doyoung fucking hated that.

“What are you thinking about?” Taeyong asked, breaking the quiet.

Doyoung thought for a moment before saying, “Fireworks.”

“Fireworks? You like them? Minho was planning on lighting off more later, if you want to watch.”

Doyoung smiled but he was shaking his head. “No. It’s okay. I don’t really like them, actually. Not anymore.”

“Oh,” Taeyong said hesitantly. “Why?”

“They’re nice for a few seconds,” Doyoung said. “The sky fills up with colors but it doesn’t stay. So what’s the point in lighting them at all? When you just end up in the dark.”

The conversation, the yard, the house, the neighborhood, the entire city went silent after that. Doyoung rolled his eyes almost at the pointless introduction of his existential crisis brought on by two people he didn’t even know because he would have never told anyone else about what he thought about fireworks. Not Jaehyun, or Ten, or Youngho, or even his older brother. It was weird, the way he felt almost compelled to tell Taeyong about his problems.

Doyoung probably would’ve mapped out the entire universe with Taeyong that night if he had asked.

“Maybe,” Taeyong started after a few seconds, voice slow due to the cold. “Some things don’t need to last a long time for them to still be good,” Doyoung’s heart pounded against his ribcage.  “Sometimes things, like fireworks, only need to be nice for a few seconds before it goes dark again. Those few moments of light outweigh the dark.”

“Fuck,” Doyoung exhaled after a moment. His lips were numb. “That’s really nice.”

Taeyong smiled and he was looking at him with so much patience and worry that it almost made Doyoung want to cry. It was like Taeyong could see right through him, only to know exactly what to say to make Doyoung feel like he wasn’t going fucking crazy. They had only been together a few hours but Taeyong already knew him and it was unlike anything Doyoung had ever experienced.

Doyoung didn’t know what to say or what to think. He didn’t know how he’d explain this night to his friends, or if he’d ever be able to talk about Taeyong without making it seem like he had made him up. Doyoung didn’t know anything, just that his heart was beating because of Taeyong.

Taeyong was the one who broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?”

Doyoung watched the garden lights reflecting off the slope of Taeyong’s cheek. “Yeah.”

“Can you kiss me?” Taeyong said, his voice a muted whisper against the rest of the world.

Doyoung didn’t say anything, just leaned in.

The kiss was all warmth—electricity leading its way from the pit of Doyoung’s stomach to his fingertips, toes, lips, and heart. Around them was nothing but snow and cold but somehow, with their lips pressed together, they were the warmest thing in miles.

One of them pulled back first (Doyoung wasn’t sure who) and zero seconds passed before Taeyong was looking at him again.

“Thank you.” Taeyong said and then he was standing up and outstretching his hand for Doyoung to hold.

Doyoung blinked a few times, heart pounding in his chest, and grabbed Taeyong’s hand. “Where are we going?”

“Kim Doyoung,” Taeyong announced as he pulled him to his feet. “It’s time for you to scale that house.”

**

“What if,” Doyoung said through chattering teeth. He was only halfway to the window but, according to Taeyong, the hard part was already over. “I just fell off and broke my neck?”

Taeyong looked back at him. “You’re not distilling any sense of comfort for me here. If you fall and break your neck that will most definitely be _my_ fault.”

Doyoung smiled, eyes focused on watching his feet slide across the snowy roof. “If I start to fall I’ll just pull you with me.”

“Wow and then we could haunt this house together.” Taeyong said just as he reached the window sill. “Can ghosts make out?”

Doyoung made a face. “I’m never kissing you again.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Taeyong said, lifting himself in through the window before motioning to the ten-foot drop. “Don’t make me end it all.”

“ _Dramatic_ ,” Doyoung hissed, shuffling a little further. Taeyong was laughing out the window and then holding his hands out for Doyoung to grab.

Doyoung was met with darkness when he made his way in through the window.

The room was small, dark, void of life except Doyoung and Taeyong’s hearts beating lowly in their chests. When his eyes managed to adjust, Doyoung could make out a bed in the center of the farthest wall, pillows and blankets undisturbed over the mattress, a nightstand beside it collecting dust. Behind him, he heard Taeyong slide the window shut.

“It’s just you, me, and this bedroom,” Doyoung said, quietly. The room felt like it would disappear if he spoke any louder.

Taeyong met him in the middle of the bedroom, their shoulders touching side-by-side, the two of the staring at the untouched bed a few feet away. Doyoung could feel his heartbeat in his throat, the blood rushing through his head, the heat radiating off of Taeyong beside him.

“And the beds made,” Taeyong pointed out. “This is a sign.”

“A sign? For what?”

Taeyong shrugged. “For whatever happens in this room,” And then he was crossing the moonlit floor, locking the bedroom door so no one could ever find them. “Why else was the window open?”

“Maybe someone had sex in here earlier and decided to fix the sheets and air it out for the next people that needed it,” Doyoung said. “How do you feel about that?”

“They’re so considerate,” Taeyong broke away from the door, circling the farthest wall for a few seconds, looking at the photographs hung up, before making his way to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. “Look at me—sitting on a pre-used sex bed waiting for you.”

“And they say romance is dead.” Doyoung mused.

Taeyong looked so small sitting there, feet flat on the floor, posture straight, hands resting on his knees like he was waiting for _something_ to happen. His skin was smooth under the moonlight coming in through the shut window and his eyes almost looked black without the contrast of fluorescents to bounce off the brown. It sort of left Doyoung in awe and if he hadn’t been so focused, he would’ve pulled out his phone to take a picture.

Doyoung looked away for the first time in what felt like hours but he found himself wanting to look back almost instantly.

Everything was weird about that party. The music, the colored cups they served drinks in, the people who got high and watched news channels, the way Doyoung felt himself changing. Everything was weird but the weirdest thing was how uneasy Doyoung felt when he wasn’t within touching distance of Taeyong. It had only been a few hours but Doyoung felt like he had known him for months.

“Can I ask you something?” Taeyong said, breaking the quiet of the room.

Doyoung nodded, stepping away from his spot in the middle of the room and meeting Taeyong on the bed, sitting with his legs crossed and facing him a few inches away from him on the bed. His heart was racing.

“What happened?” Taeyong said carefully. “With your break-up—what happened?”

Doyoung’s shoulders tensed but it wasn’t a hard question to answer. “He left to study abroad in Canada.”

“Was it the distance?”

Doyoung shook his head. “No. He ended it the night before he left. That was the first time he told me he was leaving. I didn’t even know he had applied.”

“That’s so fucked up.”

“It was. And I wasn’t upset that he went, or that he broke up with me. I was upset because he used leaving as the excuse. Like that was the only way to handle it or the only way I would’ve accepted it. I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” Taeyong said, sincere.

Doyoung hadn’t been okay since it happened because for a while, it felt like the future was never going to happen. He had things planned, everything worked out, and then one night Seokwoo was at his door and telling him he was leaving for a year, that he didn’t want to leave Seoul with anything holding him back. Doyoung was holding him back. He spent two years looking forward to the future and then it didn’t exist anymore. Everything was bright and then the sky went black.

“I’d tell you that I’m fine now,” Doyoung whispered. His throat felt tight. “But I think you know me better than that by now.”

Taeyong stayed quiet for a moment and then he was leaning in and placing his hand on the expanse of Doyoung’s cheek, rubbing his thumb along his jawline. Doyoung stiffened but then relaxed almost instantly, letting himself melt into the touch, letting himself be comforted.

Seconds passed and Doyoung pulled away, scrubbing a hand down his face. He took a few moments, willing the expanse of his emotions to calm down before he was looking at Taeyong drowning in the light of the moon. It looked like the light was radiating from Taeyong himself, like he was actually the moon and didn’t exist as a person at all.

“What if this is all just a fever dream and you’re not real at all?”

Taeyong looked at him. “What if I’m the personification of your fever?”

“Oh my  _god_ ,” Doyoung mused. “You are.”

Taeyong pressed the back of his hand to Doyoung’s forehead. “You don’t even  _have_  a fever.”

“Sounds like something a personified fever would say.” Doyoung countered. 

“You’re impossible,” Taeyong said, leaning in and taking Doyoung’s face between his hands. “This is real.  _I’m_  real.”

Doyoung shifted on the bed then, pulling his face from Taeyong’s hands, unfolding his legs out, and lifting himself upwards. His knees sank into the mattress as he moved and he didn’t take his eyes off Taeyong once. He stayed like that, knees bent in a kneeling position, back straight, hands hanging loosely by his sides. After a few seconds, Taeyong copied Doyoung’s movements, until they were both staring at each other with only a few inches of space between their chests. 

“I don’t believe you,” Doyoung said finally, words catching in his throat. His brain seemed to power out then, Taeyong the only thing occupying his mind. He almost forgot to breathe.

Taeyong’s eyes searched his face for a few seconds, leaving Doyoung feeling vulnerable under his stare and if anyone else had looked at him like that, Doyoung would’ve been halfway down the stairs by then. Doyoung felt like someone else was controlling his movements, someone who knew exactly what he wanted. 

He wanted Taeyong and nothing else. 

Before he had time to register what he was doing, Doyoung felt his hands leave their place down by his sides, crossing the abyss of space between their slow-moving chests and finding expanse of Taeyong’s torso under his palms. His fingers curled slightly into the thin fabric of Taeyong’s shirt and when he focused hard enough, he could feel the rise and fall of his lungs.

Taeyong didn’t say anything, just took Doyoung’s waist in his hands and leaned in until their foreheads were touching, until he was kissing him soft. 

It was chaste, over before Doyoung even had time to notice the feeling of Taeyong’s mouth against the corner of his own. The kiss was fast but it still left electricity in its place.

“Thought you were never going to kiss me again?” Taeyong said afterwards, breathless. His hands were soft against the sides of Doyoung’s waist and the pressure was enough for Doyoung to elicit a groan from the base of his throat, mouthing along Taeyong’s smooth jaw. His lips on Taeyong’s skin felt like fire.

“ _You_ kissed me,” Doyoung urged, nudging Taeyong’s chin up with his nose and mumbling against his neck. “It’s different.”

Taeyong let his head slump back. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

Doyoung sighed against the slope of his neck. “I’m not doing anything. Haven’t even kissed you yet.” 

“Touching my neck is enough.” Taeyong exhaled. 

Behind them, the heavy snow falling cast shadows in the moonlight coming in through the uncovered window, and when Doyoung pulled away and opened his eyes, it looked like falling stars were pouring over them. 

“Hey,” Taeyong whispered. His eyes were screwed shut, head still slumped back, cheeks flushed. “Don’t go.”

Doyoung laughed at that because _where the hell would he go?_ He pushed the thought of leaving out his mind and moved closer. He was still on his knees on top of the covers, legs almost touching Taeyong’s in the same position. He didn’t move from his position, just let his legs relax a bit and it wasn’t until they were no longer strained did he realize he was shaking.

Downstairs, there was the muted sound of people shouting over the music but that was so far away and Taeyong was right there.

Doyoung didn’t think about it. He just leaned in until their lips met. The kiss was different than the ones before. There was no one around to interrupt them or cause them to break away sooner than they wanted. It was burning, like all the fire in the world was running through his veins instead of in bonfires on the beach in the dead of summer, in the flames that ignite fireworks, in the sun. Taeyong sighed through the kiss, the feeling buzzing through Doyoung’s face to the back of his skull. Doyoung pulled away, dazed, and watched the muted moonlight fall across Taeyong’s face as his eyes fluttered opened. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Doyoung said, putting his hand on the sides of Taeyong’s neck to pull him in closer.

Taeyong exhaled into the space between them. His hands settled on the sides of Doyoung’s waist. “I know.” 

Doyoung didn’t say anything after that, just closed the space and kissed Taeyong harder. 

Taeyong held him tight, as close to his chest as possible, but Doyoung still wanted him closer. He moved his arms up, looping them around Taeyong’s shoulders until they were chest to chest completely. Through their shirts, Doyoung could feel Taeyong’s heartbeat rapid against him. Out in the hallway, Doyoung heard footsteps and laughter but he ignored it, just kissed Taeyong again and again and again, until his entire body felt warm, until Taeyong was sucking his bottom lip soft.

Taeyong was so warm against him, so warm and steady and it took so much strength for Doyoung to pull away so he could catch his breath.

Taeyong didn’t miss a beat when Doyoung broke away, just leaned forward and kissed Doyoung’s forehead leaving a warmth imprint in its place when he moved back. “Hey.” He said eventually, half-dazed.

Doyoung laughed at that before replying with, “Hey.”

“What are you thinking right now?” Taeyong asked gently. A few seconds went by before he got a reply.

“I feel like—” Doyoung started and then broke off. There was an underlining warmth in the base of his chest, an undeniable heat, and it felt like he might start to burn from the inside out if he didn’t touch Taeyong again or tell him everything on his mind. He didn’t know a person like Taeyong existed, someone who could make him feel like the only person in the world, or make a winter night in February feel like the start of the rest of his life. Doyoung didn’t think he’d ever meet someone like Taeyong again. “There’s no one else like you.” Doyoung said finally.

Taeyong watched him closely, his eyes present and sincere. His expression softened a bit, a flicker of emotion moving across his eyes and Doyoung watched them well up with tears. Doyoung wanted to kiss them away, wanted to say more things and let Taeyong know how important he was but instead, Doyoung leaned in until he was closing the distance between them and catching Taeyong’s mouth with his own. 

Being with Taeyong made Doyoung forget everything he had ever said about wanting to be alone.

Downstairs there was a party going on, music muted through the walls, floors, the doorway, fireworks going off in the front yard, lighting up the black sky in yellows, reds, blues. Across the city people Doyoung had never met before were falling in love or falling asleep. Outside the snow was coming down, casting shadows over the moonlit room, falling across Taeyong’s face washed out in dark blue and silver. The world was still going on around them but in that room, time completely stopped.

Doyoung kissed his neck again, down and down until his lips were catching on the fabric of Taeyong’s sweater. He mouthed against it, lifting the bottom hem with his fingertips until he felt the skin of Taeyong’s waist hot under his palms. Doyoung shoved the fabric up further, running his hands gently up the sides until Taeyong’s chest wasn’t covered anymore.

All Doyoung could feel was the heat. Taeyong’s skin beneath him. The tightness in the front his jeans. Taeyong’s hips underneath his own. His lips, cheeks, head, entire body was all heat and electricity.

Taeyong looked good like that. Head thrown back against the sheets, eyes closed, hair falling back past his forehead, eyebrows creased like he was anticipating Doyoung was about to get up and leave at any moment. His sweater and undershirt were tugged up over his chest just below his collarbones, hands against Doyoung’s thigh, pressure light enough Doyoung almost couldn’t feel it. He looked good. And Doyoung almost couldn’t believe he was against him. 

Doyoung leaned forward again, pressed a kiss to the corner of Taeyong’s mouth, and started mouthing down his chest again, goosebumps rising across the skin of his chest from the sensation. Doyoung repositioned himself until he was on his knees between Taeyong’s leg, his lips reaching the start of Taeyong’s jeans. All he felt was heat.

“Hey,” Taeyong said breathlessly. “Doyoung,” He propped himself on his elbows. “You don’t have to—”

Doyoung looked up at him, smiled against the skin of his stomach. “Hey,” he said. “Taeyong,” pulled back. “I  _want_  to.” 

He ducked back down, his hands moving across the front of Taeyong’s jeans until the button and zipper were undone. He took Taeyong’s hips under the expanse of his palms before sliding his hand down the front of Taeyong’s waist and feeling him already hard against his boxers. Goosebumps rose across Taeyong’s skin. “Hey,” Doyoung said, looking up. “Is this okay?”

Taeyong nodded with a clenched jaw and his hands were already gripping the sheets of the bed, like he was trying to keep himself from disappearing. Doyoung swallowed, completely amazed that he was the one making Taeyong look like that. He hadn’t done anything like that in a while, and for a moment Doyoung had to remind himself that he was about to get Taeyong off. He wanted to make this last as long as possible, drawing it out for as long as the universe would allow. Doyoung exhaled, pushing everything else from his mind, instantly going warm when he felt Taeyong find his hand in the dark.

“Hey,” Taeyong said breathlessly and half dazed, noticing the pause. “Are you okay?”

Doyoung nodded, kissed the skin of Taeyong’s stomach and positioned his hips against Taeyong’s. His heart was beating hard inside his chest, the sound of pumping blood filling his ears, filling the entire room. There was so much going on but when Doyoung focused completely, it was just him, Taeyong, and the moonlight.

He didn’t have a game plan after he unbuttoned Taeyong’s jeans, just positioned his waist against Taeyong’s and rocked against the slope of his hips. In another setting, time, or place, Doyoung might’ve done a little more than the simplicity of dry humping, but in the time between kissing Taeyong down the front of his chest and seeing him look completely wrecked when Doyoung had barely _touched_ him, Doyoung was the hardest he had ever been. 

There wasn’t much talking after that, just low-chested moans and the occasional curse slipping out of Doyoung’s mouth, their hips rocking together in a steady rhythm until it felt like stars were swimming through his veins.

**

Later, when their chests were no longing heaving, when the moon outside disappeared completely behind the winter clouds, when they positioned themselves under the sheets to block out the chill, the silence of the room broke. 

“If I never see you again after tonight,” Doyoung spoke into existence. “You really were just a vivid hallucination I created to work through my depression and emotional dependency problems." 

Taeyong leaned in closer to his side and sighed against his neck. “At least I helped you with something. You could be imagining me for sexual connotations alone.”

“No,” Doyoung countered. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be wearing a shirt right now.”

“You know there’s an easily fixable solution for that, right? Just say the word and I’ll never wear clothes again.”

“Wow,” Doyoung mused. “What a gentleman.”

Taeyong nodded. “What can I say? I’m a giver.”

“You’re the _worst_.” Doyoung said but he was smiling.

Outside, the falling snow shifted with the wind until it seemed to be coming down sideways instead, casting shadows across the bedroom floor. Down the road, Doyoung’s friends were falling into their beds, ready to sleep off the alcohol in their systems. Across the city, people were buried under their blankets blocking out the February chill. Downstairs, people continued to dance, shaking the entire house with every movement. Upstairs, Doyoung and Taeyong stayed together, hands interlaced beneath the blankets, the two of them alone together.

**

On the edge of sleep, Doyoung suddenly had the urge to pee. 

“Taeyong,” He whispered into the dark room, but he might as well have been planets away by then. “Are you asleep?”

For a moment there was nothing and then Doyoung felt a warm hand find his waist in the dark. “No,” Taeyong said quietly. “I’m still here.”

Doyoung smiled and sat up on the bed.

“Hey,” Taeyong said, voice a little louder, noticing the shift. “Are you leaving?”

“No,” Doyoung stood up and shuffled across the room, through the shadows on the floor. “Just going to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” Taeyong’s voice caught in the darkness. “I’ll go with you.”

Together, they stepped into the moonlight filtering in through the window.

When they opened the door, the party seemed over for the most part, just the tangle of muddled voices coming up the stairs, lights dark everywhere except when they reached the bathroom and flicked the lights on.

Doyoung peed and Taeyong waited outside the door. When he was done, Doyoung tapped the door twice, signaling that Taeyong could come in if he wanted and as the sink started to run, Taeyong stepped into the artificial light. He leaned against the sink as Doyoung washed his hands, face relaxed and eyes glossed over. Doyoung looked at him in the mirror.

Doyoung hadn’t seen him in direct lighting like the bathroom was emitting, and he didn’t think Taeyong would look much different except he felt like a whole new Taeyong was exposed to him under the yellow-white light that made his skin almost look translucent. The lighting was harsh and intense enough for Doyoung to have to squint in contrast to the darkness he had experienced the past few hours. It was new, seeing Taeyong under the fluorescents, but he was still beautiful.

He saw a scar at the corner of Taeyong’s right eye, the straightedge of his jawline, and the discoloration beneath his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping much the past couple days. Doyoung felt like he was seeing a completely new Taeyong and even then, all he wanted to do was turn around and kiss him until the lights burned out and they were left in complete darkness. 

Taeyong stared back at him, looking more serious than Doyoung had seen him the whole night.

“You miss me already?” Doyoung asked, voice barely a whisper.

Taeyong didn’t say anything, eyes falling from their contact through the mirror and Doyoung felt his heart sink low in his chest. He didn’t want to deal with that right now, with the extent of their situation, with the fact that that night wouldn’t last forever so instead, he turned around, switched the lights off, and grabbed Taeyong’s shoulder, pulling him out of the bathroom and into the dark hallway.

When they were back down the hallway and standing in the doorway of the bedroom again, Doyoung pulled Taeyong into his chest.

In the darkness of the room, where the moon was the only source of light and nothing else existed except them, they held each other. Doyoung slipped his arms up over Taeyong’s shoulders, feeling the inhale and exhale of his lungs. Taeyong’s arms tightened around his back, above his jeans, skin warm through the thin fabric of Doyoung’s sweater. All Doyoung felt was warmth, sleep tugging behind his eyelids, and Taeyong steady against him. 

“It’s too cold in here without you.” Taeyong said, right against the side of Doyoung’s neck, right beneath the pulse.

Doyoung just held him tighter, closing his eyes until he saw stars in the black.

**

Against the dark, Taeyong felt electric beside him. 

“I wish it was warmer.” Taeyong whispered in the night. 

"Yeah," Doyoung mumbled, eyes lidded shut and he could feel himself drifting. "I want to see you in the summer."

“Really?" 

“Mmm,” Doyoung hummed. “I can’t see you in anything but sweaters. What do you even wear?” 

"T-shirts, mainly," Taeyong said, sleepily. His voice was low. "Sometimes no shirt at all." 

Doyoung made a face, opened his eyes to see Taeyong smiling lazily across from him. "You would.” 

Summer felt years away. He was sure Taeyong disappeared after the winter months died.

“Still want to see me?” Taeyong asked, voice barely a whisper.

Doyoung looked at him a little while longer, ignored the ache starting in his chest, and closed his eyes. “Yes.” 

**

“I have an older sister,” Taeyong said, voice floating in the dark. “And a nephew who just turned one.”

It was late. Late enough that the whole world felt quiet and far away. Everyone alive was asleep except for them.

Doyoung smiled, lying on his side facing Taeyong. The snow was still coming down outside, whirling around in the wind, falling too fast to cast shadows in the moonlight on the floor. “What’s he like?”

“Cute,” He watched Taeyong smile. “And sweet,” he laughed a bit. “He’s really well-behaved. He always sits still when he’s with me.”

“It’s hard for babies to sit still,” Doyoung said, watching the way the moon illuminated half of Taeyong’s face, other half hidden in the pillow. “He must be pretty scared of you.”

Taeyong laughed, low and sleepily. “You’re a  _dick._ ” 

**

“I have an older brother,” Doyoung said. His voice was loud against the silence. Their hands were tangled together under the blankets, Doyoung tracing the heartline of Taeyong’s palm. “And a mom and a dad.”

“Yeah?” Taeyong breathed, voice above his ear. “Are they great?”

Doyoung smiled, nodded even though he wasn’t sure if Taeyong would see it. “They’d be proud of me right now.”

“Why?” Taeyong laughed. “Because you’re about to fall asleep next to a stranger?”

“No,” Doyoung murmured. Their hands folded together. “Because I don’t feel like being alone anymore.”

Taeyong leaned in and kissed the slope of his jaw.

**

“I’d live on Mars,” Doyoung said a little while later, voiced slurred from drowsiness. “I want to be there now.”

“ _Fuck_ , me too,” Taeyong said next to him. The house was silent all around them. “I want to live closer to the sun.”

“But you’d die.” Doyoung countered.

“Yeah,” Taeyong nodded. “But I’d die warm.”

Doyoung opened one eye sleepily, vision barely adjusting to the dark of the room. The moon was still there with them but not as bright. “Is that a hint?” He said.

Taeyong nodded again and smiled. “Yeah,” he raised the sheets and patted the space on the mattress right in front of his body. “Come here.”

Doyoung shook his head, laughed lowly into the room before repositioning himself against the curve of Taeyong’s body, felt the rise and fall of Taeyong’s chest against his own when they were pressed up close again. Heat flooded in.

**

“How’d you find me?” Doyoung said later, much later. His voice was low, heavy, coming from deep in his chest. The sky was pitch black, glowing against the snow, and the twinkling lights down in the garden were no longer blinking yellow. “Tonight. How’d you find me?”

“I just saw you,” Taeyong said softly, eyes opening slowly across from him. “I was talking to Sicheng and then I just looked up and you were there.”

Doyoung smiled, thinking back to a few hours ago when he first heard Taeyong’s voice against his ear. “It just happened.”

“Mm,” Taeyong nodded, propping himself up on an elbow. “Just happened.”

Taeyong looked—he looked good like that.

And Doyoung wanted nothing more than to lean into him, do something about the slow building heat in the base of his stomach, but he was tired. He was so tired and Taeyong looked like he was seconds away from falling asleep so he just turned until the heat of Taeyong’s mouth was against the back of his neck and his waist was fitting into the curve of Taeyong’s body. They moved easily, repositioning the blankets up around their shoulders to block out the cold air, Taeyong slipping his arms around Doyoung’s torso and holding him close, the rise and fall of their chests matching up.

“Doyoung,” Taeyong said, voice quiet and muffled.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung mimicked, placing a hand on the inside of one of Taeyong’s wrist and drawing sleepy patterns into the skin. He closed his eyes. “Goodnight.” 

And so they laid like that, Taeyong’s face buried in the back of Doyoung’s neck, and Doyoung’s buried in the pillow. 

Just them. Alone together.

**

“Will you think about me?” Doyoung asked softly, when his eyelids were too heavy to open and his heart was calm underneath the growing moonlight. “After tonight?”

Taeyong shifted slightly against him, entire room still with silence. Doyoung waited, hesitantly but he wasn’t expecting anything at the same time. Taeyong might as well have been asleep by then but Doyoung couldn’t fall asleep without reaching out one more time, like Taeyong would disappear in the morning before he had a chance to ask him.

Everything was quiet and then Taeyong’s voice was filling the entire room. “I already am.”

Nothing else was said after that, just the steady hum of their breathing as they drifted slowly into that good night.

**

In the morning, Doyoung woke up in pale blue light.

He stayed still for a few moments, blinking, wondering if it was still night time. The air was cold all around him, edges of the room lit up in bleary light that made him feel like he was underwater. It took him another second to remember where he was. 

Taeyong was still asleep against him, nose buried in the back of his neck, breaths coming out in steady exhales. Doyoung was still on the queen size bed in the second floor bedroom of the house from the party last night. 

They were still in the same position they had fallen asleep in, except Taeyong’s arms were wrapped around the middle of Doyoung’s torso, hands warm against the front of his sweater even though the blankets covering them were barren of body heat.

“Shit,” Doyoung said, eyes burning from the lack of sleep, voice scratchy. “ _Shit._ It’s morning.”

Doyoung moved awake, breaking away from Taeyong’s arms around his waist and sitting up on the bed. He moved his arms out from under the swath of blankets and hissed when he was met with instant cold. Taeyong shifted next to him, low groan coming from the base of his throat. Around the room, everything looked frozen under a sea of blank morning light. The sun wasn’t completely up yet.

Everything felt different in the day—the room didn’t feel like it was for them anymore, just a bedroom with shitty décor on the walls and scratchy blankets. The only thing that _really_ felt familiar were Doyoung’s discarded shoes at the end of the bed and Taeyong asleep beside him.

Doyoung bit the inside of his lip, not looking away as Taeyong blinked awake.

Taeyong looked up, indents from the sheet against his cheek, eyes meeting Doyoung’s gaze and then he was smiling soft into the pillow, untangling a hand from under the blanket and resting it against the slope of Doyoung’s thigh. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Doyoung said, voice soft against the room. Taeyong was warm next to him, face pressed against his hip.

Taeyong smiled again as he glared against the morning light flooding in through the window. His lips looked swollen from sleep, eyes red around the edges, hair flat. His expression was soft, relaxed, calm in the heat of it all. All Doyoung wanted to do was reach out and touch him.

“So,” Taeyong said after a moment, voice heavy with sleep, sitting up and stretching before leaning over and brushing a thumb across Doyoung’s cheek. “Wanna go home?”

Doyoung nodded then, leaning forward and resting his forehead on the slope of Taeyong’s shoulder. “Yeah.”

**

Dim, hazy orange and blue filtered in through the big windows of the kitchen downstairs, covering most of the interior in the natural light. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Taeyong laced their hands together.

They passed by a few sleeping bodies as they navigated their way through the downstairs hallway, kitchen, and living room. Empty cups, liquor bottles, and confetti lined most of the floors. All of it remnants of what happened last night.

Taeyong nodded to two people making eggs in the kitchen as they passed. Across the dining room table, a guy sat upwards against the wood, looking more hungover than Doyoung had seen anyone in a while but he was lucid enough to notice Taeyong as they walked by, telling him to “Have a safe trip, man.” Doyoung barely gave anyone on the rest of the way out a second thought, too focused on Taeyong like he might slip through his fingers at any moment.

The cold air hit them at the same time when they stepped out of the front door.

Doyoung squinted against the sunlight reflecting off the snow, shoved his hands deep in his pockets to cut out the cold, and ignored the gnawing ache in his stomach.

Next to him, Taeyong’s phone buzzed twice and after a quick scan of the screen, Taeyong cleared his throat and said, “Yuta’s on his way.”

**

It was silent between them. Doyoung felt blue on the inside, the same color of the sky as it woke up fully above them. The air was cold, chilly, and felt like a knife when Doyoung breathed in too deeply.

They sat side by side on the porch, knees knocking together every few seconds, like they were both trying to dissipate the looming feeling of what was to come. Doyoung’s eyes flickered over to Taeyong’s and Taeyong’s would flicker back until eventually they stopped looking away at all and were the only things in each other’s field of vision. It was fucked up, the way Doyoung could feel himself trying to take in all of Taeyong at once, all the parts he didn’t know about yet.

“When’s your birthday?” Doyoung asked after a while.

Taeyong smiled. “Soon,” bumped his knee softly into Doyoung’s. “The first of July. When’s yours?”

“Few weeks ago,” Doyoung said. “First of February.”

“Sorry I missed it.” Taeyong said.

“Yeah,” Doyoung replied. “Me too.”

A few people trickled out of the front door, sidestepping past Doyoung and Taeyong in the middle of the staircase. Doyoung watched a handful of them migrate to their parked cars covered in snow, others starting the long trek back to campus.

“Last night,” Taeyong said. “What you said about not wanting to be alone anymore. Did you mean that?”

Doyoung thought back to last night, the image of them standing in the front yard last night burning bright against the inside of his mind. He thought about how them laying together beneath the covers, the warmth of their bodies pressed up close, and the feelings of pure calm.

“Yeah,” Doyoung said, eyes flickering up. “I meant everything.”

Taeyong nodded slowly, focused. He didn’t say anything else, just took Doyoung's hand in his own and held it to his chest. Beneath his palm, Doyoung felt the steady beat of Taeyong’s heart and the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. He let his hand linger against Taeyong’s chest for a bit longer, until it didn’t feel like the world was ending, and then he was leaning in and letting Taeyong’s arms mold around his shoulders and hold him close.

**

Yuta’s car pulled up a few minutes after seven. The sky was streaked with orange and pinks and Doyoung could make out the faint outline of the moon against the morning sky.

Hesitantly, Doyoung stood up with Taeyong from the porch, following him closely down the driveway.

“Morning boys,” Yuta said from the car when they reached the sidewalk, voice laced with amusement. “How’d your night go?” 

Taeyong turned sideways, smiling into Doyoung’s temple. “Fine. Yours?”

Yuta leaned out against the window and he shrugged but he was smiling. “It was okay after we got Yukhei home. Sicheng was pretty hungover so he said he’d see you in June. Did Jinki ever find you?”

Taeyong shook his head and Doyoung could feel the hesitation in it.

“Can we give you a ride?” Yuta asked from the driver’s seat but Doyoung just shook his head.

“No,” Doyoung said, squinting against the sun’s reflection. “It’s okay. My dorm isn’t far from here.”

“Okay,” Yuta nodded. “It was nice meeting you. I hope he wasn’t too much of dick,” and then he was motioning towards Taeyong and saying, “Your train leaves in an hour. Come on.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, waving Yuta off. “Give me a second.”

Yuta nodded, pulling back into the car and rolling the window up to give them some privacy.

The entire night, since the second Taeyong found him in the upstairs hallway and he felt something shifting inside when he was with him, Doyoung knew they’d have to say goodbye eventually but even then, it didn’t stop him from feeling sick when Yuta let them know. He didn’t really know what to say.

“I—” Doyoung started, cold air rushing all around them with the wind and his body feeling heavy. Taeyong’s eyes were hard on him, eyebrows creased together and Doyoung just shook his head, not able to reach the right words. All he really wanted to do was extend his hands outward, take Taeyong’s face in his hands, and look at him until the snow melted. “Had a good time with you last night,” he said when he remembered this was the last time he’d see him. “And I hope you have a good rest of the semester.”

Taeyong stared at him, eyes warm.

“I’m glad you saw me last night,” Doyoung nodded. “And I’m glad I came back.”

There was a pause between them and then Taeyong was stepping forward, putting both hands on Doyoung’s waist and pressing his warm lips, soft, against Doyoung’s forehead. A moment went by, Taeyong letting his mouth linger for a few seconds. “It was nice meeting you, Doyoung,” Taeyong said against his forehead and then he was leaning backwards, kissing Doyoung’s cheek before he was too far away. He took a breath as he stepped away, nodding. “See you.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung said in the space between them, heat of Taeyong’s mouth lingering against his skin. “See you.”

Taeyong looked at him one last time, a slow smile spreading across his face, and then he was stepping backwards off the sidewalk and getting into the passenger seat of the car. And then he wasn’t there anymore.

Doyoung waited until the car wasn’t visible down the street, until his hands stopped shaking, and then he took a deep breath, another, and started towards home.

**

**Six Months Later**

Laughing, Doyoung props himself up on the warm grass, watching as Youngho throws Ten into the deep end.

Mark and Donghyuck lay spread out across the lawn, Donghyuck hanging his head back towards the sun, Mark beside him with sunglasses on, the faint imprint of smiles on their lips. Between the gap in their separate beach towels, their hands stay interlocked above the grass. Taeil hangs back towards the patio, sunbathing on the wooden deck. Jaehyun lays next to Doyoung, squinting against the sun and laughing before he’s standing up and going into the house to find his sunglasses. Ten comes up to the surface, cursing Youngho for pushing him in but then he’s laughing.

It’s summer and the weather is hot, scorching almost on some days, and Doyoung feels light and warm and good. It’s early in the afternoon, the seven of them spending as much time together by the pool before classes start up again in a few weeks.

Youngho picks Ten out of the pool, kissing his cheek before they’re sprinting across the yard and pulling Mark and Donghyuck to their feet, dragging them closer to the water until the four of them are wrestling around in the grass, laughter filling the air.

“Hey,” Jaehyun says, coming out of the backdoor and crossing the grass until he’s standing over Doyoung. “There’s someone out front. He asked for you.”

Doyoung makes a face, takes his eyes off Mark and Donghyuck chasing each other across the lawn. "Me?"

“Yeah,” Jaehyun starts towards the pool, slipping his sunglasses over his face. “He says he knows you.”

Doyoung picks himself off the ground, wiping the sweat pooling on his brow and takes in the blow of the air conditioner when he crosses through the threshold of the house, squinting against the sun coming in through the open front door.

When his vision adjusts to the light, he sees someone staring back at him.

Taeyong waves from the middle of the lawn, standing out against the bright blue sky. Doyoung freezes, stopping in the doorway, and suddenly that night in February is rushing back to him all at once. He remembers the cold air, the window at the end of the hallway, numbers counting down to midnight, the heat of them in the bathroom and the kiss that made his body light up, the way Taeyong held him close in the bedroom, the darkness of the sky, the things he said about fireworks not needing to last to enjoy them, the way he could hear Taeyong’s voice long after they had both fallen asleep. He remembers the way Taeyong looked at him, how soft and warm his body was, the only place he wanted to be.

"Doyoung," Taeyong says finally, smile breaking across his face. "Hey."

Doyoung leans against the doorway, and his voice is slow. "Hi."

Taeyong takes a few steps forward until he’s standing on the front porch, until he’s only a few feet away, until Doyoung feels the warmth of his skin. "You're still real."

"Yeah," Doyoung says, taking in the view in front of him, lips tilting up. "So are you."

**Author's Note:**

> heart emoji
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/venusdoyoung)


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